Why,
after 60 years of civil war
am I almost ready
to be myself?
Of course I wish
I'd lived,
were living,
a thousand other lives
- - -ten thousand.
And this one I'm living,
have lived,
will live,
will never do,
is an embarrassment.
Still,
it's mine,
no one else's,
I haven't lost it
yet,
and that
ought to be
worth
something.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem