PROPHECY OF A PROCRASTINATOR
Things that matter most must never be at the mercy of things which matter least.
Goethe
Time is my enemy,
The chain that holds.
The faces, forms, shapes
The sounds, noises, screams
I see them, hear them, and know them
I have been there.
Shall I return to myself?
What self?
The self that time creates, deceives, deserts, destroys.
That self
That time must now give back to me?
Only time can heal those wounds which time itself creates.
May I be your companion?
Yes, I, the dog
That drags itself along life’s road
Feeding from the gutters.
Close the shutters!
Before the midday sun burns the eyes
Sees the future;
The past is ever present,
The future never comes.
Can I be your friend?
Yes, I,
This lifeless, shapeless, shadow of a man
Slithering through the gutters.
Close the shutters!
Before the light from the moon
Makes it known too soon:
The present and the past are one.
Can you understand?
The future never comes
To one who is but a shadow of a man.
© 1998 - 2008 Sheldon D. Channer
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4 comments:
Do you remember that I translated and sent one of my favorite Korean poems to you as replying to this poem?! I retried to translate smoothly...
My bottomless solitude makes me not to be aware of you.
My intense rage makes me not to be aware of you.
My ardent feeling, which is easy to be hurt, makes me not to be aware of you.
Your bottomless solitude makes you not to be aware of me.
Your intense rage makes you not to be aware of me.
Your ardent feeling, which is easy to be hurt, makes you not to be aware of you.
Your and my bottomless solitude lead us not to be aware of you and me.
Your and my intense rage lead uo not to be aware of you and me.
And, as such, your and my ardent feelings, which are easily being hurt, lead us to be aware of neither you nor me.
Kyung,
I don't see the relationship between "Prophecy of a Procrastinator" and the poem you posted. Do you mind explaining the link?
Please, try to see as if you have a perspective of a prophet beyond the literal meaning or common sense of particular words themselves...
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