No more shall elms sleep: their ageless sentience
Slows scenes; wisdom’s eternal ecliptic
Brink of man’s mortal event horizon
Resolves: Catharsis of life’s macabre dance
Poets pen scribes a dirge: love is romance
Tyrant’s test: time’s decree, prides defiance.
a Three-faced, ethereal muse: recourse for
Kings’ desire. Offer legions on its pyre
Men sought t’pass time’s end: found themselves no more:
Their derelict rhetoric litter Styx‘s shore,
Faster had Ramses built an interstate
Than Shelly’s hand mockd’: laws of time and fate
Even pedestalled warnings, men ignore
Chides Charon, who tongues his Marlboro, and waits.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is good prose writing once again. It falls short on the poetic side because of the several failed rhymes. But the last line is magical and the images sparkle from the writers pen. GW62