A Business Poem

I could grow roses, and collect their nectar, For newly wedded pairs’ perfume. Or lilies, the Persian young lovers would secretly present their bashful beloveds. Or could process the early-ripening fallen apple, Foreigners would slowly have Seeing the fiery sun Setting into the gloomy sea; On the sandy strand bask alongside naked In the blazing summers’ afternoons, Kissing French, playing with the watery-sand— Barefoot. Or could have fed the fowl In high fenced Open-farms; Fed them corn fed them wheat, Allowed them take long flights And watched them with love, dust bath. Watched them dozing on trees’ branches In the summers’ tiresome mid days And, loved the old-cock’s crowing in the dawn As his prayer to God. So, bred to tens of thousands And sold their big brown eggs, at good price. And Ah! Cried loud, the old ailing hens would die. Or reared goats and sheep in the nearby forest’s meads And in the summers’ full-moon nights Visit my large flock, The grasslands across the sandy mount, stony crag. Oh! The old shepherd’s ancient-Arabian tale, Sitting by the flaming fire near their tent’s door, His busty wife’s baking breads, Watched by the lips-licking dog Sitting on his legs. I would though not See the auction of my grown bucks, My herders rather would, in my absence. And like that English nobleman, Formerly was a poor boy And reared sheep; In his palace had a hall, He visited the crooks and robes Whenever! Felt by mistake proud. I could have lived like the tradesmen Live, the real luxurious life, Poets, painters and teachers Can, only imagine of! But the True Lovers Ah! Ah! Live an adventurous life, heroic! Work harder, Wait long gloomy nights, travel sandy sunny miles And then, earn a fear-fraught, fleeting, strange moment-of-joy! So, I chose to be a lover… And gratefully! I live a busier life; More demanding Than the businessmen or tradesmen or any statesman Shall claim.