Today's poem

In addition to the yesterday's poem, here is also a poem on a game. Upon reading the rhymed couplets, first, I giggle with a scene of Christianity and card play for gambling and religion, for an imaginary snapshot that Buddhist monks in clerical garb play Mahjong. However, the scene could often be seen at that age. Such oldness and strangeness in the poem ー I adore.

On the Cards and Dice
By Sir Walter Raleigh

Before the sixth day of the next new year,
Strange wonders in this kingdom shall appear.
Four kings shall be assembled in this isle,
Where they shall keep great tumult for a while.
Many men then shall have an end of crosses,
And many likewise shall sustain great losses.
Many that now full joyful are and glad,
Shall at that time be sorrowful and sad.
Full many a Christian's heart shall quake for fear,
The dreadful sound of trump when he shall hear.
Dead bones shall then be tumbled up and down,
In every city and in every town.
By day or night this tumult shall not cease,
Until an herald shall proclaim a peace,
And herald strange, the like was never born
Whose very beard is flesh, and mouth is horn.