6th November 2023
Listen
Listen
The wheel of time and fate has turned
From the tenebrous cloud the sun sprung to her celestial abode
With her gentle rays she bathes the earth
With her warmth she sustains the roots and foliage of the British Oak
With her light she illuminates the lake where the swans peacefully glide
Her love pervades.
Yet does she not bless us all?
Who is so arrogant to claim her theirs?
In that town in the English North
Where the babelian chimneys of the steel factory from the time of the old Empire had halted and rusted
A frost among the people still remains
Poverty and isolation prevail
The machinations of ‘that woman’who neither feel nor see nor know
Worked.
But what a Faustian deal that was for the city paved of gold where the demagogues reside
After all no greater piety there is but the one for the green god that subverts all!
Sufferance and poverty are duties
Greed and deceit are virtues.
Hush hush, this is not the time to be idle
It is time to tell the tale of this poem’s idols.
In that town in the English North,
Where the warm tweed was once weaved
There an emperor lives.
That regal emperor performed his quotidian routine:
He awoke in a blanket adorned with prints of exotic flowers
He laid on himself an opulent reflective robe
He tied his impenetrable shoes made of steel
He grasped his treasure chest full of weapons
and instruments and left for
work?
Even scanty crumbs, the demagogues
Have made them seem like gold.
The ‘emperor’ was gliding through the streets, but he saw
that In every corner deprivation thrived
In every face the wrinkles of exhaustion were starkly
defined But every soul was glad they still survived
For the sake of community and warmth, they all ultimately strived.
The ‘emperor’ was gliding through the street, but he saw
that There was a crowd shrouded in fire and passion
Marching for king and country
So why did the ‘emperor’ try to hide his face?
Why were their feet stomping toward him?
Why was he suddenly ensnared like a prey?
Is he not also an honest citizen for his king and cou- bang!
What a trick has the wheel of time and fate played!
The emperor lied on the ground left in terror and confusion His ‘poor’
assailant towered him, but he was also left in terror and confusion Their
face hardened and their expression dismayed
What a trick has the wheel of time and fate played!
The memories of those old days flooded their mind
The memories of those day when life was simpler
The memories of those days when they climbed the oak tree and swam in
the lake The memories of those days when they lied and embraced the sun-bathed
earth The memories of those days when they relished their youthful love.
Had the devil stolen affection and murdered compassion? I asked
The mephistophelian demagogues laughed
Truly humans in manners and devils in dealing
Their passionate chants echoed
By their capricious commands
As if they were the mighty Ozymandias
Communities were hollowed from within
The nectar of camaraderie spoiled
The ambrosia of love debauched
Yet the wheel of time and fate turns.
Hope. Remains.
And when the tricks will appear fictitious, and truth be
revealed The demagogues’ bizarre enchantment shall fade
away
And like the carcass of Agamemnon, the hatred shall decay
Those damned devils shall be exiled at the call of the guardian of the lake of
Cocytus And only then brothers and sisters shall be finally reunited.
