A Term-Criminal Poem by Margaret Alice Second

A Term-Criminal



Caught in the doldrums in one long undulating
curve of self-reproach and despair - a prisoner,
bored and useless, only useful when depressed:
when peaceful or happy, my work is nonsense,
the printed Regulations to be used for my text
did not SOUND good, I kept searching so that

Legal phrasing was just one of the phases my
translation passed through - I kept looking for
better ways to put it and used great-sounding
phrases which took me away from the boring
regulations, yet relaying must be done literally
in the true translator-tradition of no addition -

Or feelings - I was so shocked on discovering
how far my imaginative, fanciful interpretations
took me away from the correct translation-genre
and therein lies my guilt: I have never learned to
conquer boredom, no self-discipline, never learnt
how to switch off my heart and emotions - being

A fireball of adrenaline - I walk around dazed like
a guilty automaton - unable to relax or feel better,
too scared to write anything - for fear of trying to
hide my guilt, but sadly such martyr-self-reproach
never lasts long enough before my monkey-spirit
bounces back to being a happy Taugenichts - a

Term-criminal, unaware of being evil incarnate in
this routine world - thus until then I'll try to reform
as best I can - fervently hoping my despair lasts
long enough to get some good work done…

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Edward Kofi Louis 16 September 2016

I walked around dazed! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.

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