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Seated woman in a black hat and gloves in a bar, by Lotte Laserstein
Robert L. Martin

The Bewildered One

The Bewildered One.
 
Beautiful words from mysterious places
Behind secret doors and prominent faces
Bathed in sacred vessels and silver streams
Arrive at my bedside and into my dreams
 
I am a simple man with a simple thought
Why me for where they duly sought?
They take me to where I do not belong
Into higher places they carry me along
 
I’m a stranger placed in a mysterious land
Where words are written by a different hand
Woe is me when asked what they’re about
When intellectuals gather at me in doubt
 
I stammer along with my old worn out tongue
Singing my old songs the way they’re sung
I’m the bewildered one for whom was chosen
From strange places to be while I was frozen
 
If I could only remember after
All the words were gone
I could go back to
Those high places
Whenever I wanted to

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