The escalator goes up and down
Its passage like the sea,
The tide goes in, the tide goes out
Not knowing which tide will touch me.
The waters wet-I feel sea sweat-
Aware of all I can see,
But yet there's underworld much
that I can't touch-
To see what lies beneath me.
The days hence are fraught with what I know not
But which doctors confidently can find,
Lucky I am for these experts-of-man
Assuring me all my mis-timed clocks
they relentlessly will wind.
But I know that my life is toast
And now abets out to the sea,
At least-unlike these 'experts-of-man'
I am endowed by God with less hubris-
And more humility.
No apologies are forthcoming
When the patient goes to his rest,
All the 'experts' bask in their sunning-
Affirming that they all tried their best.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem