On a good day,
The feeling of
Something left undone,
Nagging like Mrs. Tolstoy
On your deathbed in Astapovo.
On a bad day,
The feeling that
Something has been
Accomplished
Like Mr. Tolstoy's last period
For a book called War and Peace.
I wish we weren't so obsessed with hope.
Because in a good world,
We wouldn't need it at all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Such a brilliant write, Bryan........