"today, or tomorrow"

Today is to do and a time is to die,

(Or perhaps a time is to laugh and to cry)

To whisper a caution again and again

To a wind which listlessly listens ahead

For wind, a time is to fly and to roam

(Yet for man, a time is to shiver and groan)

Faced with a question that hasn’t been asked,

And a list of to-do’s been redundantly tasked

Alas, I confess, it cannot be I -

Not I who lives to laugh and cry

Nor I who lives to sing and dance-

Not I who sleeps to dream perchance

No, no,

It is not I,

Not I.

Before the sun will call retreat

And golden lamplight wash the street,

Before their faces all retire

(in silk or dirt or cotton attire)

Then, perhaps, it will be time

To sing and laugh and dance and cry

And watch a pregnant sun collapse,

Into a brilliant golden trance

And where the sun and moon will meet,

With longing gaze and reddened cheeks,

Where light will kiss my thinning hair,

(Mankind lacks much kindness there- )

Then, perhaps, it will be time,

To live, to laugh, to care, to try,

But thrice, I assert, it is not I

Not I who lives to laugh and cry,

Not I whose voice will take the stage

Trembling with a passionate rage

Instead, I think I will retire

Into the arms of my admired

I’ll sit and breathe my cares away;

The world can wait another day.