The tangling web of my life
keeps on weaving.
The incessant contradictions
are unbelieving.
The past a memory,
the future a reverie
Ah, but the present that's with me
is in itself a mystery.
I'm damned if I do. I'm damned if I don't.
I'm damned if I will.'I'm damned if I won't.
These contradictions
take their toll on me
and so at the end of every day
I lie in my bed silently,
glad that another day
has become the past
or what I do call my history.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem