> >Can love last forever?
> >And what if it did?
> >Nights like when Tom called to say that he couldn't come back
> >Because nothing felt the same anymore
> >Seared her soul and she thought "Why not?"
> >"I've found a younger, truer kind of love," he said.
> >And she wanted to scream and scream at him like a banshee
> >For knowing how a wrinkle killed the bloom of romance.
> >She hated his guts forever but he never thought about it.
> >Anyway, that's how I see it.
> Good job, that's a real masterpiece of translation.
It is good. But almost anything coming out of Shakespearean or
Elizabethan English seems to suffer from the transformation. "The
Creative Essence is my sheepherder" comes to mind.
> >Poets must be a distinctly unhappy lot. But then, I believe that
> >sometimes accurately reflect the spirit of the times. (Tom, Elf and
> >present company excepted, of course).
> Not so, my friend, my finest poetry always comes out of some sort of
> misery. I'll take the first statement, Poets must be a distinctly
It is true that the venerable Till has been known to turn to verse more
frequently in his darkest moments. Things must be looking up for him
though, because his output has diminished markedly in the past year or
Would to find that the Till wrote more verse
But it may be he's blessed with a curse
If he's happy his muse
He'll inev'tably lose
Till can't write again till he gets worse!
> Till who is ONLY speaking for himself
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