I knew the train's destination
But not my own—
A passenger—
I knew where the tracks headed—
But can any person know his own destination?
I don't think so
She came down the aisle carrying a suitcase
I rose without thinking
Took it from her hand
And placed it in the rack above my seat
She had no choice but to sit next to me,
Near the window
I hadn't planned it
That way
It just happened
For a few moments I glanced at a book
Not knowing what to say
Then, miraculously, we spoke
And my life began
The train sprouted wings
And flew
From Washington to Manhattan
In five seconds,
Or so it seemed.
I've held her close ever since,
Almost six decades,
Always in my heart
If not, for long, in my arms.
That train
Took me to unforeseen places:
First the heavenly resort of "Adoration"—
For six glorious months—
Next the Hell-town of "Heartbreak"—
I spent years there—
And, finally,
The retirement community of
"Treasured Memories
And Loving Friendship"—
And there I shall remain always—
For there is where our train finally rested.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i MUST KNOW MORE! ! ! does this have anything to do with you, other than that you wrote it? ? it is from your hand alone, is it not? not a translation of ancient Chinese? does your wife know about her? ? a poem delightful to read; well maybe towards the end not so much. : : (? ? let me guess. a first love, lost to death or mental illness or other..... then longing and heartache, treasured bittersweet memories and a poem to share. my condolences if i am correct. to MyPoemList. bri :)
Yes, a first love... and I was lost to mental illness (as you probably are already aware) .
Yes, a first love. We are still friends. Yes, my wife knows about her. Thanks for your condolences.