Purified penury

(A canção do orçamento 2017)

by T.P. Wilkinson / November 6th, 2016

We have no money
While our friends scatter
Among fast cars and deals
With the spice and wealth
Below the fading sun
Lost to other worlds
Their childhood health.

We have no money
While our wines travel
Among the fat
and satisfied abroad
With rice and meat
Whose lack
Once left us
But tripe to eat.

We have no money
Our hearts still bold
When the seas
Wash our faces
Neither bought nor sold
Our smiles we will have
As we still have our souls.

T.P. Wilkinson, Dr. rer. pol. writes, teaches History and English, directs theatre and coaches cricket between the cradles of Heine and Saramago. He is author of Unbecoming American: A War Memoir and also Church Clothes, Land, Mission and the End of Apartheid in South Africa. Read other articles by T.P..

This article was posted on Sunday, November 6th, 2016 at 8:03am and is filed under Poetry.