Issue 213, Summer 2015
The Unsure Moralist
after Zuhayr (and Creeley)
I’m tired of life and its troubles.
Whoever lives as long as I have or will
grows weary: it’s inevitable.
I’ve seen the fates trample
the young in the dust, like a blinded camel.
When they strike they can maim and effectively kill;
when they miss—men live on, content if feeble.
A man’s true nature in time is revealed,
no matter how hard he tries to conceal it.
I know what’s happening now quite well,
and I clearly hear the past’s babble.
As for what tomorrow will sell us—
my wisdom’s already rubble.