Games

 


While I’m sitting watching TV
All at once beside myself,
It is quite a diff’rent story
That before my eyes unfolds.


There’s a Sergeant yelling loudly,
Cursing, scolding without end,
And his sphere is growing narrow,
Would the world on him depend.


And the soldiers they are running,
Deadly earnest in this game,
They are jumping, shooting, bombing,
All the world depends on them.


Then an office, a few people,
And their heads are glowing red,
Had they weapons in their drawers,
One of them would sure be dead.


Cosy cardgame in the evening,
The emotions boiling high,
Because losing or a-winning
Makes their world, their joy and pride.


All those grown-up men and women
Make their lives a deadly game,
Never caring, always running,
All the joy eluding them.


But the world could be so funny,
Much more Paradise than Hell,
If the lives we choose were sunny,
If the games we played were well.


Anyway Nature is stronger,
Plays for aeons its own game,
If we vanish from her playground,
Will for her be all the same.


I’m reclining from the TV,
Laughter welling up in me,
Ev’ryone seeks stupid power,
Me, I’m looking for a game.

 

Copyright: Anand Buchwald, 12.04.2007

 

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