The Philosopher and the BeggarLonely Streets

There is only a philosopher and an old beggar.

The philosopher, with his profound beard, strolled along

He complained to the beggar that life was too long.

The pursuit is an abyss that can’t be filled.

Life is a story that can be seen through but never told.

The waves of years slowly push

Can’t wait for the endless end

The beggar touches his tattered clothes and stumbles

Laughing to philosophers about the fleeting moments of life.

The universe is not eternal

Gathering and dispersing, sorrow and joy pass by in a flash

Waiting for the winds of time to blow away the memories

Blurring the footprints of the way we came

The philosopher said with a sneer that the beggar was a philosopher.

The beggar jokes that the philosopher is a beggar.