Twelve Years Were by Kabir

Posted: February 9, 2014 in Poetry

Twelve years were
To childhood lost;
Twenty to youth;
Middle age took care of
All the rest.
It’s too late
To have regrets.

You built a dike,
But the stream had dried up;
You enclosed the field,
But there was no crop to save;
You ran out with the snaffle
But already the horse thief
Had gotten away.

Bedridden with a stroke,
You make a rattling sound
And wish to make amends.
You’ll leave this world, says Kabir,
Pickled clean.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s