In My Heart Many Aches. Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

In my heart many aches.
And they have matured over the years

Year after year
With empty hands remained I in every year.

With every heart a dagger in the heart that
Bled
Another dagger
Another bleeding new
Another wound.

I
I thus of the empty heart
I of the dagger after dagger in.

I
Of the grains of sand that my hands slipped.
I
I of the empty hands

Ay! To have empty hands-on empty hands
Sow seed every year
And barren stay remain, year after year.

Traumas were of me
And now in my ageing they multiply
I bend under grinding stones
I bite the ground
I kiss the dust in pain,

But is not a coin with two sides?
Yes, but even on the other side I failed.
Chance after chance I lost
And with every chance lost I sank.
And my heart further sank
And sank.

And now
Now in my ageing
Desperation calls on me to make miracles
That I did not at twenty years of age.

Desperation, traumas, sickness, depression be of me
A tiny light remains.
Of this I make the most or fall.