Painkiller works if I keep my head still,
sitting immobile, movement brings on
lighting flashes of pain again, I shall not
eat this kind of dish again, the result is
much too fierce, seems like I was born
to gain spiritual advantage through lots
of pain, waiting patiently is a prerequisite
for getting through this, I used to fantasise
and read when I was small – until a dark
mantle of depression enveloped my mind
and I couldn’t find a spark of light to lead
the way, until I slowly read a favourite book
meditatively; doing tests while suffering
symptoms proved me a simpleton, with
half my brain in a frozen state, I struggled
through school and university, today I’m
only half a translator too, always jumping
into the deep end with my inability to look
for details, being used to charge at mag-lev
speeds through every deed to reach the end
before my mind collapses and my thoughts
are blown away like sea-spray from the crest
of a breaking wave…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem