"A man who is truly humble cannot despair, because in the humble man there is no longer any such thing as self-pity." Thomas Merton
I am like this window
streaked with rain,
obscured by
blowing dust,
neglected
yet holding firm
against the wind.
I know
that some fine, clear day
you'll open
the door,
wipe my sins away
and clean at last
I'll dissolve
into your light.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem