He'll Never Die

On gloomy Styx's banks I stand,
Great crowds are passing over;
And patiently I watch and wait
One party to discover.

The ferry daily busier grows —
Old Charon shakes with laughter —
Yet vainly do I seek the face
Of the man whose luck I'm after!
Translation: 
Language: 
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.