Life belongs to other people to play with through monetary
gains.
Inside is a life richly peaceful and calm, outwardly there
is no money or riches, only poverty.
Working hard an entire lifetime has not brought anything,
but heartache and pain.
Escaping interiorly is the only richness of life that is
mine.
Solitarily walking and seeing with a vision not of my own,
but God's, helping to pull me through the drudgery on earth.
Without it, without writing, no longer existing in this
hardened cruel world of people who just don't care about
anyone but themselves.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This isa strong poem which confronts the hard truths of our lives in an often uncaring, selfish society. We can certainly fight against such injustice through political action, following Hamlet's TO TAKE UP ARMS AGAINST A SEA OF TROUBLES, But your poem offers a more immediate solution, that is, the Interior Life. Your poem is wise, it doesn't make the Interior Life a paradise. It's rather a place of refuge, and how we benefit from this asylum is another choice. There is a prayer-like quality in the closing stanzas which brings peace and calm to the troubled mind of the speaker and to that of the reader who has read the poem with sympathy and understanding. I humbly place myself in that group of readers.