If I spread my arms to embrace the collective me that is this point in time
If I stretch my truth to its conclusion when speaking of this life of mine
If I seem taller than I stand and if my air is rather grand
Does anyone bleed because of it?
If my cataracted critical eye makes me squint when observing my truth
You can nudge the next man and wink when I recall my youth
My consummate self can be put on a shelf and knocked off whenever you've a need
I don't mind
If I speak of a sparrow and an eagle spreads its wings
Or a marlin stops the boat when I'm speaking of a cod
What then? It was a fish. It was a bird, and the action has occurred
And there have been those to whome this mortal was a God
You too are in the autumn of your life, my friend
Your spring and summer were without end back then
They cannot be exaggerated more than they meant to you
The events that were milestones- -
Pebbles? Call them millstones!
Entertain me with your life. Speak on!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem