MY HEART IS WITH ALL THOSE WHO DID NOT MAKE IT
My heart is with all those who did not make it-
Who never got there
Who aspired and tried
And worked hard
And did not make it.
I know -
For forty years
I have been one of us.
Out there alone- trying
Writing and writing
Getting nowhere.
Let us in the very act of the Writing
Be for once-
Our own critics and judges
And say,
“We have done something
We are real now
Nameless or not
Our poems are here.”
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This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem