Edgar Lee Masters (Эдгар Ли Мастерс)
Tom Beatty
I was a lawyer like Harmon Whitney Or Kinsey Keene or Garrison Standard, For I tried the rights of property, Although by lamp-light, for thirty years, In that poker room in the opera house. And I say to you that Life’s a gambler Head and shoulders above us all. No mayor alive can close the house. And if you lose, you can squeal as you will; You’ll not get back your money. He makes the percentage hard to conquer; He stacks the cards to catch your weakness And not to meet your strength. And he gives you seventy years to play: For if you cannot win in seventy You cannot win at all. So, if you lose, get out of the room -- Get out of the room when your time is up. It’s mean to sit and fumble the cards, And curse your losses, leaden-eyed, Whining to try and try.
Edgar Lee Masters’s other poems:
883
