The Stage
the night is cold and the wind blows high,
clouds are drifting in the moonless sky,
dogs are howling in the midnight hour,
the rich man sleeps by the candle.
the clown is dancing not knowing why
he who laughs is the one who will cry,
the stage is set for all his grief,
his is the night like a thief.
while the beggar shouts for mercy
with voice weak sounding so empty,
the king and queen are happy,
they are amused by the gypsy.
the tearful joker dances and sings,
he who came to entertain the kings;
showing things that he does not feel,
falling down on his knees to kneel.
the young princes shout for more,
unmindful of the hungry poor;
they just laugh and they sigh,
they do not hear the people cry.
Copyright © Wilfredo Derequito | Year Posted 2007
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