Sometimes there is a move upon my soul
That makes me close my eyes on all the world
And think instead of all life as a whole
A spinning wheel immersed in love and doubt
A chessboard on which I am but a pawn.
I conjure up philosophies so deep
That all the Greek thinkers of days bygone
Awaken from their thousand years of sleep
And tug their beards and whistle in their awe.
What great things they’ll say of me when I’m dead!
And I rush to my desk and start to scrawl
Those great big thoughts that thunder ‘round my head.
But after I’ve stared at them awhile,
I rip them up, wink to the mirror, and smile.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I am not greek, This write made me think what could be in the next line.