It is true
i am at loss
if age be the gauge
for you can live
for a hundred or more years
while i can only
have less
it is true
you are slow and patient
and persistent
and silent
and in fact you have defeated
the rabbit
in that classic race
but if i were to carry my own house
at my back
and anywhere i go i have to hide my head
against a war
for my sure survival
and if in these struggles i simply have to be silent
and meek for another hundred years
just to live
forgive me Turtle, but i must tell
that
i'd rather be myself still- - -
a man, vulnerable in love and war
still in my humanity
at par.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem