Balding Blues

a poem by Nirmaldasan

In the spring of youth I was the
   boldest of the bold.
Said, in the spring of youth I was the
   boldest of the bold.
So I went a-hunting in search of
   the Spanish gold.

All these years I have hunted
   for a piece of gold.
Said, all these years I have hunted
   for a piece of gold.
My hairs fall like autumn leaves and
   I am suddenly old.

My balding pate glistens like
   a plate of gold.
Said, my balding pate glistens like
   a plate of gold.
And soon will Winter find
   my ivory bones a-cold.