I resigned myself long ago,
a frank appraisal after all.
Yes, I will never be… great.
Do not shed tears for my milieu,
knowing now is far more kind…
than delusions lasting ever more.
But I arise… new goal in hand
worthy of my talents, (as such.)
I will at least be… interesting!
Now that is indeed a noble aim
with all sorts of wondrous roads
Heck… who needed greatness,
anyway!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem