There’s been a bit of change though. If not to I, then it would have been my surroundings. With the passing on of a family member, responsibilities at home are shifted and taken upon. Old things are cleared and rearranged. Well, now I have a mini library. And it really keeps telling me, “YOU STILL HAVE SO MANY BOOKS LEFT UNTOUCHED AND WAITING TO BE READ!!”. >.< Ok ok...I’m getting there.
After all that work, it’s a wonder to know that...it’s probably only 10% of the house that got cleaned up. @@ Still got so much... T.T
Anyway, in the midst of clearing, I found really old things which most I had given away. However, there was one of my poems which I found quite amusing...the things I create during that life phase. I typed it out again...yeah, digitizing anything I can...most of it left as how it was originally written. I only edited certain words and added in the last few paragraphs that I added in...dunno when. ^^’
Hope you enjoy it. =)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Battle of Fine Men and Barbarians
(Fine Men)
The day has come, for us men
To wield harm in one another’s face.
It would be a day, to know one’s fate.
Be it young, old or dame,
Be there a scratch on their frame,
I swear thou shall be shamed.
Guns shouldered, cannons loaded,
Straight are our men,
Ready to hold our beloved land.
But what do we find
Across the plain, it seems like pain
To know the men we fight, are beast alike.
Be still,
Let ye be thrilled.
Flee, leave and let hearts be free.
~~~~~
(Barbarians)
The day has come, for us men
To wield harm in one another’s face.
It would be a day, to know one’s fate.
Be it child, geezers or women,
Be there a strong form to fight,
They shall honour our kind.
They shall honour our kind.
Axes hovered, bows loaded,
Hasty are our kind,
And ready are we to behead some fine.
And here we find
Across the plain, it seems like shame
To know the men we fight, are tins alike.
Be still,
Let ye feel frilled.
Flee, leave and let hearts be hearts.
~~~~~
((Fine))
(Mother)
Look there, my child,
Look where thou lord stands
Ready to bring peace back to the lands.
(Child)
I see, Mother,
I see, My Lord,
As clear as any eagle above the clear blue sea.
(Elder)
Have hope children,
Would there be a wall, keep it still,
Pray and hope this would hold,
Oh how I dread these wars.
Come children,
Be safe; sight and sound,
The pieces would move soon as the drum starts to role.
~~~~~
((Barbarians))
(Mother)
Look there, my child,
Look where the rogues stand
Ready to bring store back to our lands.
(Child)
I see, Mother,
I see where the rogues stand,
And may they be swift,
For me tummy is rolling as fast as their beating drums.
(Elder)
Be strong children,
Be there a will, there is always a way,
Pray and hope our bodies would hold
As long as our fathers would draw breath.
Come now,
Be safe, even a line away,
The war is starting soon as the men gets edgy too.
~~~~~
((Battlefield))
(Fine Soldier)
Come now, come quick,
For my dearest waits behind the door
With her sweet, sweet smile.
Her lips red as the red, red roses in the garden,
As sweet as the wine down below the cellar.
Her arms white, the silk over them as soft as waves,
Her golden locks, priceless to my eyes.
Her cooking, deliciously satisfying,
Her songs, like the birds chirping by the window sill,
Her melodious voice like a harp to my ears.
What say you?
(Barbaric Rogue)
Come now, be swift,
For my wife waits behind a wall
With a hungry child.
Her lips red as the red blood spilled this very day,
As dry as the valley beyond the hill.
Her hands rough, the rags over them as tattered as my own,
Her dark hair, worth only coal.
Her cooking, exaggeratingly grainless,
Her songs, like the old owl hooting in the night,
Her hoarse voice like a drum to my ears.
Her hoarse voice like a drum to my ears.
Though so, she is the only one meant for me,
But hear me now, and hear me well,
If I could turn back time,
I would have traded mine for yours.
(Fine Soldier)
Barbarians,
You know not of love.
You treat your wives as slaves,
Your land as waste.
If my grandmother was here,
She would have fluently said,
“Shame on you, boy.”
(Barbaric Rogue)
Proud,
Proud,
You know not of culture.
You treat your lady as deco,
Your land as toll.
If my gramps was here,
He would have chattered,
“Bless you, my boy.”
~~~~~
(Fine Captain)
What is wrong with those men?
They quarrel like women
Then fight like men.
What is this world coming to?
They speak of their wives
In the middle of a battlefield.
[added edition]
(Barbaric Leader)
Oh spare me!
My hopes, shattered,
Is there no peace from women on this land?
(Fine Captain)
Stop it, friend or foe,
This war is about to end
Under my command.
(Barbaric Leader)
Hold your tongues
Or ye wife shall be called to be mine
At this very night.
Date: 10 Aug 2004 Time 5:29pm
