A Fir, a Pining Palm

A fir standing alone
On a bare boreal height
Dozes, wrapped in a warm
Shroud of ice and snow,

Dreaming of a palm far
In the East, itself pining
Alone in silence at the edge
Of a sun-baked cliff.

After Heinrich Heine

Ein Fichtenbaum steht einsam
Im Norden auf kahler Höh’,
Ihn schläfert; mit weißer Decke
Umhüllen ihn Eis und Schnee.

Er träumt von einer Palme,
Die fern in Morgenland
Einsam und schweigend trauert
Auf brennender Felsenwand.

Last Night I Dreamed of Muhammad Ali

Ali

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Turns out he is a sweet enough guy
and his Parkinson’s not as bad as they say.
Told me he heard of me — we had
the same draft board back in Houston
in the Sixties when he was Cassius Clay.

George, he said, gettin’ old is a bitch.
Best thing to do, get back in the ring,
come out of hiding, give and take a punch.
That way, least you go down fighting.