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Is the stable of mares…..
any traveler in the ocean…..
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** New Incarnation of A Poem **
(Shakespeare’s “The Seven Ages of Man”)
The infant
Is mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms
And the captive
After many sleeplessness nights
Is lying all curled
On the rough floor of death cell
When the whining schoolboy with his satchel
Creeps like snail, unwillingly to school
The door of death cell is opened
The captive is shaken up
And ordered to get up and walk
Unwillingly he drags himself
Then the lover
Sighs like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow
And the captive
Reaching the execution ground
Feels his breath choking
When the soldier
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard
Jealous in honour, sudden, and quick in quarrel
Seeks the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth
The captive
Standing on the gallows
Tries to break free from the ropes
Tying his hands and feet
And when, the justice, with fair round belly
Plays his part of deciding others fate
The captive
Dejected on failure of his efforts to break free
Awaits his captors decisions
The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon
And big manly voice
Turns again towards childish treble
The captive looks with beseeching eyes
Towards the hangman
Who allows him a moment
To have a look, for the last time
At the killing ground and his killers
In the last scene of all
That ends this strange eventful theatre
The old man is staring at the captive
In childishness and oblivion
As the captive stands on gallows
Face covered with black cloth
And noose wrapped around his neck.