long now have i journeyed
paths many a wanderer before hath trod
with naught else to serve as guide
save the light of reason and its unreasoning master...
the grave and frenzied kiss of unrelenting darkness -
a blackness born of some profound,
unholy chain of desperation and doubt;
an impenetrable shadow cast before me
as hope before one resigned to a life of hopelessness.
lo, the depths of my delusion,
the reckless abandon of self-indulgence,
and the sorrow from it wrought...
to presume that i might (what?)
come to understand some whispered secret i have yet to hear! ?
that i might somehow chance upon that fabled mistress, Truth! ?
what use these phantom dreams of future days,
from without this futile nightmare given rise,
when, at the last, the ticking measure of time,
relentless in its rapacious greed, no man favors;
time that, by the very nature of its passing,
does but lengthen this wretched age of suffering...
to stand as never ending testament
to the arrogance of our impudence?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem