No light at tunnels' end
no village round the turn
no suspect morals to defend,
no bridges left to burn,
a traveller lost on this journey's part
to the captive eye, imprisoned heart.
No waves on seas becalmed,
no mysteries to explain,
began this life unnarmed
and ended it insane,
no virgin secrets to impart
to the captive eye, imprisoned heart.
No graves on grassy slopes,
just dull ashes in some urn,
no optimistic hopes
and nothing new to learn,
all losers now with no fresh start
from the captive eye, imprisoned heart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great poem. - I think most of us feel imprisoned in life.