To these things seen- what ode is there to memories past?
of people known, of places cherished
of times and cities, of oceans, of nightmares, of love, of hatred
of good, of evil
Of these things, is there an ode?
a song's soft whisper, a moment's touch
a distraught feeling, a cynical being.
It makes no sense-am I blind?
Is there a light to embrace?
or have I fallen from this race?
A race of what? Of peoples? of nations? of cultures? of times?
What is it to be human?
These questions I dare not state.
The answers a blessing? - Or unwanted fate.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem