As I sit on this stump of driftwood
Looking out to sea
I am tired, oh, so tired!
All is nought but desolation.
O, foolish Man!
All is still, all is silent
But for the soft lapping
Of the waves on the shore
A shore of skeletons and seashells
O, foolish Man!
Where have all the flowers gone?
Where are the Birds?
Where are the animals?
Gone! Glone into the acrid mists of oblivion
O foolish Man!
Man had done it -the ultimate
He has destroyed himself and all
Life around him
O, foolish Man!
.
I will have to move on
The planet is void of life,
But Man, I will miss him
For In all his foolishness
He was dear to me
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is a strikingly acerbic write: appropriately dramatic; nicely excecuted. Well done!