It was the first time
that I had decided
this life was not for me.
I stood on top
of an old castle's citadel.
And tried with honour
and determination's help
to just let go. To just let go.
The crowd below,
though not invited
was licking lips
and softly grinning.
They were beginning
to shout the word,
just one sweet word
it spelled out 'Jump'.
So, to oblige,
not be a nuisance,
I closed my eyes
and did imagine
that, in the valley
of my dreams
there was a hope
which would be waiting,
and it was called
by a good name,
it was the milk
yes, do not doubt it,
it was the milk of
human kindness.
And all of it
was surely there
to welcome me,
perhaps I was
the human honey.
There never was
no talk of blindness.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love this new style, excellent. You are a poet's poet, and a friend's friend.10++