Of course we have the hope
That beyond the next twist
Of the road- there will be suddenly
Some undreamed of violent and definite
Sensation that will slay us where we stand
So that we die happy
Grasping now in our certain hand
Some complete knowledge never before accessible
It is the expectation that does us in though;
The fine tuning of the nerves
The oblique slant of the breath, the reaching
Towards something not there....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem