An adaptation of Delmore Schwartz' poem of the same title
Calmly we walk through this April's day,
Metropolitan poetry here and there.
On the road walk pauper and renter,
The laughing children, the motorcycle
Fugitives about us, running away.
Between the worker and the millionaire
Number provides all distances.
The clock ticks endlessly
What will become of you and me
Besides the photo and the memory?
What am I now that I was then?
This is the school in which we learn,
That time is the fire in which we burn.
The great globe reels in the solar fire
Each minute bursts in the burning room.
What is the self amid this blaze?
Time is the school in which we learn,
Time is the fire in which we burn.
Written by 'durotimi
Delmore's version is worthy to be read.
Thank you for reading.
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