Retellings. Artur Adson I need to hurry Poem by INDREK KOFF

How many more shows' GRAND FINALES
will you still have time to see?
Maybe things'll go well and you'll watch
quite many.

Maybe you'll have time to check e-mail;
maybe tell a friend those things
you've wanted to say but…

There's time aplenty for amazement,
and for anger at this and that;
for carrying the world's grief utterly alone -
well, that's just how it feels sometimes.

There's a lot more boredom ahead and
joy of all kinds - if you're truly in luck.

Sending the kids to school.
Waiting in a waiting room, getting documents.
Cooking well (well, not always)
and taking out the trash
(each to its own bin - don't mess up!).
Feeling embarrassment, but unsure of why.

Forgetting yourself. Completely.
Jostling on the tram and coming into your own and
going to school a little or a lot and
becoming a stranger to some.

Feeling heartbreak.
Letting go.
Creating something, or thinking you have.

Holding. Someone. And onto something. And together.

And breaking. Oh, you'll get a lot of that in!
Feeling content. And contentment.
Sleeping. At least half your lifetime.

Burying. Remembering.
Gasping
in awe of something.

Feeling ashamed.
Breathing deeply, feeling intoxication, understanding.

Making peace.

And becoming history. Departing.

And if you've no luck
then you'll probably make it half
or a quarter or
less.

You'll make it the length you need to make it.
There's time.
I believe it shouldn't
run out.

*Artur Adson (1889-1977) was an Estonian poet, writer and theatre critic