I walk to the edge of the long road
Which is swollen, I mean swollen,
With too many memories.
I wanted to give most of them away
At some point, but am glad
I kept them all. They got me
This far and I know
They are what will keep me
Going further. My lips, too,
Are swollen, but with bursts of gratitude
To these jumbled pieces,
These parts of my journey.
I look down one end
Of the road, then up the other;
Either way seems long enough
To make the trip necessary.
I have not yet decided which direction
I'll take. But the first step
Will let me know
I made the right choice.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem