when i write
this i listened
to the
best of yann tiersen
on piano and
if you by chance
had listened too
even once in your
lifetime i guess
you shall feel
the same thing that
i am feeling now...
this sadness that
carries with it a kind
of indescribable
happiness this irony
of what we want and
what we cannot take
this longing which
does not desire fulfillment
this letting go of
what i could have possibly
taken with pride
and dignity but which
i left to the whims of
the winds as
i have began taking the
belief that what i have
or can be is already
ironed out by destiny.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem