Fine Pearls
To the flute players,
To the professional mourners,
Don't cast your pearls before the swine;
What kind of man is this that i have to touch his tallit?
Fine pearls, fine pearls!
What kind of woman is this?
She who had been the wife of Uriyah.
To sit down with Abraham,
To sit down with Isaac,
TO sit down with Yaaqob,
Your eyes will see this and more;
For i am the one with the fine pearls.
Was Cain not Abel's brother?
Was Esau not Yaaqob's brother?
Outwitted by the wise men when,
The fine pearls were laid bare.
Meek and lowly in heart,
Where are you lovely ones?
He who is not with me is against me,
But my mind will always write.
To be trained like a bird,
To be trained like a pilot,
Like a young child and his father;
Peace to the heavens with the fine pearls when,
My mind do the writing.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Added by Poetry Lover
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