Lemonade on the verandah after supper,
discussing Rousseau and Voltaire
before retiring to the soft embrace
of an easy langour;

Expecting tomorrow and its harvest
of promise,the lush savannah
the tall sheaves and sturdy horses,
and yet that tomorrow never came;

No matter how much we believed
and what we believed was enough,
but what they believed was much more,
we recall with wounding monotony
those men of honour
whose sabres broke too soon,
those chivalric figures whose
steeds wearied in the long campaign;

We recall those shards of splendour smashed,
held captive in museum-cased aspic,
the haunting echo of a terpsichorean melody
vanished and gone into The Wilderness;

Mene mene tekel upharsin
those heirs of promise,
weighted in the balance
and found wanting;

The visions of Daniel,
the words of Ezekiel,
prophetic and predestined,

Lemonade on the verandah after supper,
discussing Rousseau and Voltaire
before awakening to
the dawn of a new day,
and grey.

3 thoughts on “Lamentations

  1. suzette portes san jose

    the visions that we might have captured today may or may not last to find the bliss of what future may bring…life enjoys what can be here today…for what if tomorrow will not come … be Blessed for each day… a nice profound word Sir Louise… 🙂

  2. Sunil Sharma

    A post-imperialist look at things; the distancing creates the necessary shocking effect—and futility of such empires, rendered ineffective by a relentless march of time and history.
    Re-learning a lot from the Master.


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