Having sold his entire life
Baking bread in a tavern
With a shaky disoriented wife,
My father had a plan.
He exhorted me out
Of the dull, charcoaled shop
To the prominent hub
Of the world of books.
I, bespectacled
Under the lamp,
Enlightened my vision
For a better profession …
Thus far was all I could stamp
On my credentials.
The rest is beyond my reach,
Beyond my father's dreams.
Disappointed,
To the core of infancy,
I, belligerent,
Pedal back to the bakery.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very fine poem dear poetess...thanks