I am
The Lord of Grief.
Grief
Makes noble.
Grief
Makes strong.
Grief
Built me.
I made
Little steps
It was towards the end.
It was not enough.
Not just enough.
I will eat
Fire
If I catch
That inveterate desire
That gives me what
I want.
I want.
I want.
My hunger insatiable
And irresistible.
Will the heavens
Light the miraculous fire?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This character reminds me of that rare god in world mythology who creates himself (Egyptian pantheon has one such) . Your poem details the sheer difficulty of such self-birth, but as Lord of Grief this one is acquainted with creative pain. I like the process which will reach critical mass and create being, namely, THAT INVETERATE DESIRE THAT GIVES ME WHAT I WANT. The series of words - want, desire, hunger, insatiable, etc. - all relating to the movement of desire, show DESIRE is the trigger of creativity/creation.