(in answer to John Clare)
Who I am, even if my friends do not, God knows
even when in sin I am lost
are in my own woes,
the Lord God of the heavenly host
do witness my pain and my throes,
even when in life from a career I am tossed
into a world with its rampant busy noise
and nothing comes to any of my dreams
while even my love is lost and I have no joys,
where sunken is all of my plans and my esteems,
where even my friends are only acquaintances at best
and never do I have any quiet or rest,
right next to me through the turmoil God does trod
knows of every time that without consolation I did wept,
my creator does constantly walk with me as my God
did guard me when in peace I had slept:
as He and his angels are near wherever I do lie
with His finger on the pulse of life and on the vaulted sky.
[Reference: "I am - yet what I am none cares or knows" by John Clare.]
© Gert Strydom
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem