The truth is
I cannot remember
I do not know all I have done-
Most of it escapes me
It seems the work of another person
From another world -
I don’t live then with all I am
Or all of what I was
But only with a small part of myself now
And this small part of myself is enough for me-
I try day by day
To give another small part and to be in that
And if I give it
It is enough-
But what I have been
All I truly am
All I have done
I do not know-
It escapes me
I will never know
Most likely no one will ever know-
Waste fills the universe
And that apparently
Will be true about my own life and work, also.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem