Yearnings unexplored
By dint of habit
Can become such cruel entrapment
To struggle from this abyss?
You may redirect your fate
And of the problem state:
To vagueness give face,
To age, measure and name...
Count on your five or so senses
As it so seems
Else be content-with it
To be a mole that dreams-mole dreams
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Isabelle I love the direct approach of this poem. It takes some courage to lay it on the line, but there are times when the situation calls for nothing less.