And I dreamt
I thought of them, of me,
And all I gained
Was downright contempt
How shameful it is to stand alone
Unstained
Unknown
Untouched by vanity…
Yes, I thought of them, heroes of pleasure
And they descried me too
They scaled
My pride, my rue,
My permanent defeat…
I tried to measure
Their conceit
I failed, I failed…
I saw them, kings of thrill
Upon the thrones of mirth
Unswerving
The heavens at their will
The Earth
Too undeserving
To kiss their toes
I lay prostrate
Choosing to genuflect, to fall
Before my tainted soul
And laud my woes
My throes
My dismal fate…
Yes I saw them, lords of jollity
Through the eyes of a weeper
A master of despair
Of nullity
A reaper
Of undying care
Of flagrant shame
And when of late I lost my Deity
I became
A master of insanity
A bedlamite
I sped
To my final resort
Seeking respite,
Support
I found my spirit
Dead!
Oh yes I found
The gist of solitude
My bliss unbound…
Just then I reached the limit
Of beatitude
Just then I could attain
Felicity
The heart of pain
Of ecstasy!
Bisib’el
April 10th 1988
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem