After so many years on this planet I
still can’t accept autumn as the birth of
winter’s advent, a dread of decay and
death advancing small steps, the sun
lover’s slow retreat sliding away as if
he knows we need surcease
Seasons’ rhythms leave us helpless with
a cold inevitability of natural progression
despair increased by enlightened claims
human beings are free to change anything,
to be happy with inter-subjective reality
created by consensus in consciousness
But NO, death and decay, self-satisfied
idiots, slow dismantling is not my choice,
I find no freedom resigning to coldness
enclosing my heart, watching life-renewing
events slow down until too weak to die
without a fight
I HATE life dying despite beginnings and
endings presupposing life’s repetition
suspicious of eternal processes entailed
in birth and death, chary of free choice for
life as a physical manifestation which my
real contemplation cannot surmise
My belief there’s something amiss when
the earth tilts away from a life-giving sun
and cold invades my heart and my mind...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem