Soul would perish or body?
Or both simultaneously?
Or would two different deaths
come separately and catch?
I thought to myself it shouldn't.
It should send no warning signs.
Let it yet remain a secret.
Let it remain outside.
It has occupied my ego.
I can see out no more.
No secret, it doesn't know.
Why should it from me withhold?
Will I die? Won't I die?
I am dying but still alive.
I thought it would percieve me.
I thought it would have an insight.
Have I died? Am I dying?
Should I myself decide?
I thought it would listen to me.
I thought it would send warning signs.
It could do so - I've got four ears.
Four, just like a prime-androgyne.
When four ears prick themselves,
there will happen no tragedy.
(Translated by Katalin N. Ullrich)
Will I die? Won't I die? I am dying but still alive. I thought it would percieve me. I thought it would have an insight. Cancer, a great confrontation with life and death. waiting, hope... all so wonderfully pictured in this poem. liked it very much. tony
Thank you dear Tony, I also appreciated your poem 'If you die before me', especially because of its mythological background and rated it 10.0.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An insightful piece of poetry that depicts the lethal blend of hope and anxiety occasioned by prolonged oppressive pain of cancer, well articulated and nicely penned with conviction. Thanks for sharing KINGA.
Thanks Chinedu Dike, you understand this poem of mine so well... You have a super insight. You'd be a talented reviewer...