Maria Barbara Korynt

the last border

it brimmed over goblet of the bitterness
the worm has turned
and are scatter crumbs of the
life like the poppy of the grain

but I, I am not a Cinderella,
to gather them together I am not able,
I cannot. I, poetry of the life and growth
differently from you I understand.

and don't tell me that I don't feel!
tasting, I am savouring.
and you, you are knowing nothing about it,
because to know nothing you can.

in the glory and glitter, with joy
today you are ploughing your land.
and I, surely I am crazy?
oh no! I other I am collecting crops!

so don't demand from me that I become
your reflection. it would be for me an end
and true practical joke.and still
leave my thoughts, let at least something,

I have for myself. and when
I will feel bad I will say:
and what's more need passages,
because this way God wants.

when I will already be closely there,
by the last border, somebody
will count my mistakes and the service.
for you... and will charge for me.

Submitted: Thursday, February 19, 2009
Edited: Friday, March 13, 2009
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