The chaos of the stars
Makes me feel so dizzy;
Signs in the blood red sky
Mock my mortality.
The T.V is blaring out
Its endless absurdities.
Cartoon clowns, on all channels,
Are juggling with my destiny.
I'd like to live alone
In a cottage in the woods:
The artist's ideal home
Away from swarming crowds.
To create poetry,
In this crazed, modern age,
Is a pure, noble task.
I want to fulfill my calling.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem