the evening rose

Dear Ankur tells me to write sweet things
Of hope and joy and happy dreams
Of triumphant warriors, gorgeous kings
And songs of love’s enchanting themes

But how can I bring back that time
When I was young, a visionary bard
When the heart was full of thoughts sublime
And romantic dreams my step did guard!

Now I am the withering leaf of a tree
Shivering at the winter’s approaching doom
When falling leaves, all around I see
Sitting lonely in my quiet little room

How can I fight with a formless foe
Whose steps I hear, whose shafts I feel!
I move in a circle to and fro
And hope to make with him some deal

Life is a dream, a passing shadow
A sinking ship, a falling star
We are standing to be hanged, in a row
With thanks for having come so far