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Still
Peter Sinfield
Popularity ยท Low
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๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
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Still I wonder how it is to be a stream
From a dark well, constant flowing
Winding seawards over ancient mossy weals
Yet feel no need of knowing
Still I wonder how it is to be a tree
Circle'd servant of the seasons
Only drink on sky and rake the winter wind
And need no seal of reasons
ย
Still I wonder why, I wonder why I'm here
All my words just the shaft of my flare
As I race over this beautiful sphere
Like a dog who is chasing his tailors and tinkers
Princes and pinkers, sailors and sinkers
Before me and like me
Still I've wondered how it is to be a bird
Singing each dawn's sweet effusions
Flying far away when all the world has stirred
Yet seek no vain conclusions
Still I wonder if I passed some time ago
As a bird or a stream or a tree
To mount up high first must sink down low
Like the changeable tides of the Caesars and Pharaohs
Prophets and heroes, poets and hobos
Before me and after me
All the painters and dancers, mountainside chancers
Merchants and gamblers, bankers and ramblers
Winners and losers, angels and boozers
Beatles and bolens, raindrops and oceans
Kings, pawns and deacons, faint hearts and beacons
Caesars and Pharaohs, prophets and heroes
Poets and hobos before me and after me
ย