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
therefore I stood before a mirror of my life and saw that it
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
my threshold. And that is sufficient for a new beginning.
Translated into English: Mira N. Mataric
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