The Last Toast
Whether we like it or not,
We have only three choices:
Yesterday, today and tomorrow.
And not even three
Because as the philosopher says
Yesterday is yesterday
It belongs to us only in memory:
From the rose already plucked
No more petals can be drawn.
The cards to play
Are only two:
The present and the future.
And there aren't even two
Because it's a known fact
The present doesn't exist
Except as it edges past
And is consumed...,
In the end
We are only left with tomorrow.
I raise my glass
To the day that never arrives.
But that is all
we have at our disposal.
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (The Last Toast by Nicanor Parra )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
- Whom to, gajanan mishra
- Holy place, hasmukh amathalal
- y0ur gR0uNd uP wAtEr makEs the wind so c.., sEaN nOrTh
- The friends, hasmukh amathalal
- Haa maine mela dekha hai, Ajeet Singh Dhruv
- Two breaths, Christian Lacdael
- Archeologist, Dr PJ Raj Kamal
- In last leg, hasmukh amathalal
- Days off, Christian Lacdael
- Meteorologist, Dr PJ Raj Kamal