More I trusted my passion then
than my meditation now.
The years strive and shape
the chaos into a sober line,
multiplying entities in deliberation –
negative coefficients of temperance,
neatly fitting the exuberance
into an algebraic derivation.
Better my passion then than
the march of the numbers now.
(1999)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem