My hopes burn out, desires rot
I’m never happy with what I got
A grumbling heart, undying pain
“It’s unfair, it’s wrong”, I always complain!
What I’ve got has no value for me
Easy gotten, they’re gotten free
What I haven’t is what matters most
Run as I do chasing its ghost!
When I stop the run, where the journey ends
I lament my follies but can’t make amends
They were always there, waiting in the wings
I never cared to find, life’s precious things!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem