I had defeated my heart
I took the unruly thing
strung it up
and shifted it in place
I reigned it in
controlled it
caged it
I defeated my heart
a long time ago
I captured it
like a small bird in a gilded cage
it sings of love's possibilities
the efforts and pleasures that love can bring
but it no longer controls me
no more does it have me do its bidding for love's sake
no longer am I a slave to my heart
I denied it
like a beautiful puppy
whimpering in a corner after it has been disciplined
I deny it
turn a blind eye to its pleas
and a deaf ear to its eyes
I ignore
its pathetic needs for another
or its cries for a fairy tale
I know better
I despise
its inclination for fiction
the love of fantasy
the hope of reality reforming
denying, ignoring, despising
yes, even more
sometimes even hating it
the very thing that is praised by poetry
that is tell-tale according to Poe
or all-important to Shakespeare
doing all these and more
I have defeated my heart
a long time ago
it is now merely a muscle.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem