at a certain point
there is a crisis be it
in your career
or marriage or friendship
or about
another love that constantly
keeps on meeting
you in the
street
like a beggar
or you can be that beggar
always asking
for what is not given
a mess
really
the unfulfilled self
keeps you running
people think that you are such
an active and never exhausted
genius
it is the crisis that keeps
you moving
the storms that push the boat
farther
leading to strange lands, meeting
you with strange people
it is not over the oceans expand
sunless days
it is not within your power
to stop the journey
even if you do not do anything
keeping your hands on the side
of every moment, gazing and
blankly accepting what is given
it is hard, it is real, it is
you, it is this world
the unfulfilled self keeps you running
and always you are begging for more.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem