This is a man of these days
(only I,
Just I, the Poet Seer)
Who speaks:
I am on the top of the
Mountain of ennui.
I want all
Yet
I want none
I want to fly
I want to crawl
I want my Soul away
No, not even sold,
I want desperation to go
By yielding to it.
I want to feel all
Melting round me to the
Skeleton
Leaving just the skeleton
My brain hammers
Hammers
It is I the Poet Seer
The modern man who speaks
And no other.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem