I learned my Literature as myself-
Kafka was my soul
In the days of my early anxiety-
Joyce was my soul
Also in literary striving -
Wordsworth my soul in calm and love of nature-
Salinger my soul
Bellow my soul
Singer my soul
Soul after soul
But when I came to write
Near the end
After all the meaning
I and all the other souls together conspired
A voice perhaps my own?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
All the knowledge I possess everyone else can acquire, but my heart is all my own. ~Johann von Goethe, The Sorrows of Young Werther,1774