and do you enjoy
your solitude?
I retreat into my
quietness sometimes
ears burning from the
sounds of the world,
the people who imagine
that they own my time;
I wonder if they ever
stop
to think
to see
that I am so much
my own
that I am unattainable
cannot be achieved
or grasped,
can only be given;
I smile because I open doors
and put out welcome mats
and watch them batter at the windows,
perhaps I am unkind to expect
them to pay
attention,
the only coin they
will not spend.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem