Will you not celebrate with me
what i have contoured into
a kind of life? i had no model.
born in babylon
both nonwhite and woman
what did i see to be except myself?
i made it up
here on this bridge between
gleam and gault,
my one hand holding tight
my other hand;
come celebrate
with me that everyday
something has tried to kill me
and has failed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem