I WROTE TOO MUCH
I wrote too much
I did not correct enough
I published too much
I did not promote my work at all
I listened to my own voice
I should have asked for help and guidance
I went on for years in silence
Waiting to be discovered
When my first works were published
I was surprised
At how little they meant
And to so few
I learned with the years
That I was not as good
As I had dreamed to be
I wrote on
As if this were the only important thing
Slowly I came to see
That the lack of enthusiasm
Was evidence of my not being good enough
I tried new ways
When the old did not work
But no style or work or idea of mine
Was good enough
I go on still writing
But it will all come in the end to nothing
I tried
I was not good enough
I made many mistakes
Had I not made the mistakes
I probably still would have failed
God gives it to us
Or God does not give it to us
I was not given it-
Still I thank God
That I spend my life
Writing it away.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem