Ananda's Complaint Poem by Fred Babbin
Ananda's Complaint
I am quite old, I look quite old.
I really cannot help it.
I do not smile so much, nor frown more than a bit,
But the look I have, I cannot see,
and really do not fathom.
Friends and strangers look at me,
ask me questions so my answers
will bestow the secret key
to a hidden mystery.
They are not pleased
when I don’t meet
all of their expectancy.
But a “look” is just a look,
And not reality.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 6:50:49 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Hell, I like this one. It calls to mind an oracle or divination that answers questions with other questions, or poses riddles instead of giving straight answers. Ananda's situation is not quite as bad as Cassandra's. People would not believe Cassandra's prophecies, and that must have been maddening. Of course the other side of the coin is that we all (supposedly) end up with the face we deserve. Does a neutral face like Ananda's show a lack of passion? Is a look truly 'just a look? ' I dunno. But thanks for creating the atmosphere in which these questions might simmer. -G