I had a form to fill the other day
Which, when completed, could be said to be
An outline of my life. How carefully
I edited the story to portray
Apparent purpose, shaping facts so they
Would inter-lock and leave no hint of the
Long stretches, haunted by uncertainty,
That came between. Although I shouldn't say
So, when completed, I was qute impressed;
I seemed a person I'd be pleased to know.
Until I realised it was the rest -
The many failures that I didn't show,
The doubts and longings that I'd not confessed -
That, in the wilderness, had made me grow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem