It feels so useless to share my passions with
others, it seems to be meaningless to show
them the pictures I love, wonderful exciting
ideas and theories that mystify me
My listeners were mystified, Newton’s mechanics
would be enough, nobody inspired by quantum
physics, no-one jumped up and down with me,
everyone focused on pain and loss
Politics, earthquakes, tsunamis, conflagrations,
contemporary events and lack of a clear French
foreign policy; fighting, torture and death; while
I am thinking of atom smashers
Leaving traces only when microscopic particles
smash into each other – all spiritual New Agers
agree that all people know subliminally when
all kinds of upheavals will be
And willingly choose to participate; but I must hide
this insight for fear of being crucified, people did
not even exempt Sherlock Holmes and Arthur
Findlay from disgrace and contempt
When they expressed their convictions regarding
life after death - what can a poor little translator,
suffering every political lecture where no-one
has heard of Ayn Rand and her philosophy
- that the true altruist jumps into the cannibal’s pot
to be eaten, sacrificing life for the well-being of
fellow human beings - say; when confronted
with Western materialism?
I sway under the attack of cynical Western belief
in exclusive sensory reality, my spirit suffering as
I strive to hide my spiritual convictions - my
power spent - my heart bleeding….
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem