I listen to the poems
Of the well- known anthologized others
I would belong among them
But probably never will-
I envy their community of being- there
I think of how my own lonely voice
Says more and less than they will ever know
I hear a few of them as inspiration
As beauty
As what poetry should be
And as what I doubt I have done
I write these lines easily and quietly
Hearing them
It is easier to find my own voice
And hearing my own voice
Is enough for me
To live in this world unknown.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Ego has disappointment writen by itself.