The Peak is Really Lonely
When my mind I unlocked inside to go to places unknown
On the wings of poesy, when my quill hungered for more
And more lyrics churning between pun and spin, more
And more into spheres of membranes hitherto unknown
To my conscious mind I uncovered, and wrote things unknown.
Oh, if imagination charted my ways into future more and more,
Memory of my cells pulled me into the minds more and more
Of my ancient ancestors, down, down into times unknown.
But between future enticements and past entitlements lost
I my fleeting present, and began to live only in my writing;
Where am I?
What am I?
And why does my family feel lonely?
‘What a beautiful mind! ’
‘What a beautiful head, he has lost! ’
Their laments are so silent, so away, away;
Still biting, still smiting,
My psyche with love;
Slowly, slowly, I feel the truth;
The peak is really lonely.
5/29/2015
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem