A stunning denouement, a riposte
Like flaming posts in the Garden of Eden
Left me bleeding
And still needing, in need of still
My beginning was too late, over
Before it ended.
At once the birth became death
It would have better been to never begin.
Hope glows luminescent, for nexterday
Always waits for me
To act upon it, yet its face is spat upon.
Recalcitrance to blind failure.
If only, indeed, if only, indecision
Were abandoned like home fallen past
Each swift remove. If only. If only.
The holding force restraining unrestrained.
That force, this negative gravity, theoretically
Must be wished nonexistent the same as it exists
No other plausible reason is evident
Should be irrelevant to a deflated persona
As long as one lives the issue remains
The issue, of a beginning.
Is it worth starting a fire to warm oneself
When summer comes quickly?
Is the fire worth enjoying in its nascent dying hour?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
OOOh NO. Don't write like this. You are a good poet and this left me cold. Sorry! you lost all the sense after the 3rd line.