Sitting at the corner-most corner muttering something inaudible
Quietly walk as if the earth will shake beneath him
The gods' establishment of wizdom thou art
A stage which cannot be achieved by any world act
Can I ever wait till I will be called a grand parent?
Envy! It shows in my eyes,as glass it transparent.


I envy you
Oh you man who has seen season upon season
Years upon years
Making me thinketh the gods art not fair
You said you wish this age can be,for you to know youth again,can be share
But I tell you;this age you own it,you own it alone,not between two brothers it can be tear.


He who turns himself from the gay game for the fear of his stickly legs
He wouldn't dare show his face among the youth for he fears his wrinkles will betray him
He who wals about with three legs,haggard and staggered he walks
He who feels uneasy when dry,cracked stick is spoken of in the fables
He who shrink at the sound of war,who I heard was as warlike as wolf in his days
How whose compound now fill with children and children's children like bees

You have witness the rise and the fall and the might and the weakness of yesteryears' heroes
You who is not a stranger to occurences,but a twin of yesterday's events
Will I stay atop the soil as you?
Will I see more days,what the wizdom folly of Humanity as you?
Can I last till my eyes withdrawn in from the scenery of the world as you?
As wise as Solomon they call you.

Let me tell his biography,his axiom of places,experiences,wizdom he encountered
I wonder where those two giddy legs have carried you to before they becomes three
I hope: to the end of seas
To the end of the oceans I guess
Your words,we know,will always be back with wizdom,intelligence and experience
A bag of knowledge that I become as witless as a jackdaw in his presence.

Ha! Let me sing encomium for him for I know it will soon be second by dirge
Yes,for I know this drama will soon end in tragedy
Gentle as fawn,as grand as Greek statues,as grey as time
They listen when thou talk,a new palm wine of intelligence,not the yesterday same
As weak as water yet as strong of spirit as Iron; body and spirit not rhyme
Thou art decidous as human but,also perennial,thou hast Agent Death at your tame.

- Jimson Jaat Taofik
(Master- Jaat)