Magnificent Young Thing

You are the most magnificent young thing:
you bud, you blossom, fruit before my eyes,
kinetic artwork winning some great prize,
you move and flourish, and my heart takes wing.
I glory in you, as a countryside
enraptures one who loves his place of birth
and sees life blossoming, feels nature’s mirth
in fertile land the farmer takes as bride.
He loves his bulls and cows, his boars and sows;
sees orchards, beehives, pastures and is thrilled...
The piglets first, then the sow will be killed.
But beasts don’t know the fate of pigs and cows -
they know the farmer loves them, and that’s that.
And you don’t know you’ll age and run to fat.

Robin Helweg-Larsen


If you have any thoughts on this poem,  Robin Helweg-Larsen   would be pleased to hear them.