How long have I carried this burden of feeling
that something is tragically wrong?
What might I have felt or accomplished
if only my grip on this chain were less strong?
How often have I isolated myself,
nursed my umbrage, hung on feeling miffed?
What delights have I missed, what sweet music
drowned out by this droning, lugubrious song?
Going forth, then, what project more worthy could be
than to practice a temperament shift––
Might I toil and create and explore
from a vantage of knowing that here I belong.
Every being I greet, every scene I encounter
hath pow’r to inspire and uplift.
May I seek to make mystery my craft,
and regard every pebble a lustrous new gift.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem