Bunsho کے بول

I'd just done the best work To fall into my hands for quite some time: Of night oil i'd burned much, Made sure both style and content were sublime So i put it forward To the public forum In anticipation of my due acclaim. And meanwhile, by contrast, I'd penned a eulogy, pure workaday, Just hack work, just dashed off, Packed full of prolix puff and sad cliche.... No-one can really tell When their hand's been played out well And i don't even know How my own story goes Or if it's worth a jot. I can't see my stream. What i thought was perfect, What i thought was polished, No-one thought it worth much And they made that clear. What i thought was worthless, Merely repetition Somehow tugged the heartstrings, Brought them all to tears. I can't see my stream. No-one can ever know What of their own's their very best.