We are such tangles, such a skein of knots,
our schemes and paths put in chaotic state
by Fortune's spite, bad luck in drawing lots
or by the double dealing hand of Fate.
How can we find the ends of all these ropes
and matted loops that should be separate?
Good order is the object of my hopes,
the jumbles coiled up and securely set.
How can I find you amid so much choice
of convoluted cords and trapping lines
without direction or a guiding voice?
At every move another snare entwines.
Yet you, my love, who are myself on wings,
tease every twist however close it clings.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very intricate piece Roy!
Dear Margaret, Thank you for your flattering comments on the poetry I am downloading on this poemhunter website which I find tricky to navigate. I shall rely on you to tell me when I write something I should not have. With all best wishes, Roy