My Thought At Night Poem by Joseph Oladehinde Ibikunle
My Thought At Night
This naked world rolls on
Like the cob when we threshed the corn.
Our days of prime, we gadded-about,
All was void but we eked-out.
Success might not be glaring,
Because life is shamming;
Either joy or sorrow is a prone
We delved but none was known.
Let opulence be impure,
Alas, for all, heaven is unsure;
But in the fall of the curtain,
Only death is certain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 9:50:52 PM # 1.0.0.1119
This is even better, yet. I don't especially care for 'only death is certain' - because I like ambiguity in poetry! That's just a little 'too certain'!