Finding a soul-mate at the university,
We met at the Kierkegaard corner of the library,
Philosophical children in love with despair
With lonely eyes of drunken Kerouac.
Spring courtyard in the sun
Sitting with poetry,
Her magical metaphors
Entered my mind of longing.
I wanted us to grow old together,
To weather the storms of existence
And become fragile together.
But inevitably,
True forlorn beings
Of genuine sadness
Could never survive
Draining each other of joy.
So much lust of the soul,
Sexual desire of the mind
But it all subsides in time
To simple neurosis.
But it was love for awhile,
Maybe all that I’m capable of.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
As with all of your poetry you have a rare gift of conjuring a picture in the readers mind and especially so here. I can just see the two earnest kindred spirits coming together for the time fate allowed them both. And it was love, I believe.