Milan Orlich

A Birthday Poem: On the New Beginning

That morning rose too. For a long time already I have felt

it will be an early

morning, at daybreak when the old man faces, at last, that

which has been used

to scare him all his life. If  this waiting or even counting,

in the end can be

called that. I have run ahead of my own metabolism. And

if I cannot succeed in

knowing myself, at least I can do something for myself.

It may be a form

of euthanasia. I decided not to wait for it anymore. To simply

silence myself:

therefore I stood before a mirror of my  life and saw that it

had already

happened a long, long time ago and there is nothing I can tell

anyone about it.

I know who has, first, this morning opened the door of my

bedroom, crossing

my threshold. And that is sufficient for a new beginning.

Translated into English: Mira N. Mataric

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