Every thing touches every other,
Nothing stays safe in itself;
The ghost moans his fate was unchosen,
The captain, his enemy's stealth.
Fate doesn't rewind in the darkness,
Day doesn't withhold it's surprise,
Birth doesn't await our 'hello',
Death doesn't hold out for 'goodbye'.
In the mirror, behold your opposite:
The antagonist of all that you do.
His left your right, his day your night;
Whatever you think, he sees through.
On the ground, stretches out your shadow,
Who follows you through thick and thin:
They'll bury you one day, and he'll go away
And not count it as loss or win.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very nice! I love the third stanza. Introspection.