A thousand
worlds I’ve brushed aside,
no father’s
face like mine’s lilts glare; meseems thy havens heard my blare!
Sith life I’ve owed, I’ll die as he died.
And twixt days
of present ‘n’ days of past,
whitherward
shall the future stare, all taken guesses in despair err!
Unknown or known, hath been bypassed.
My veins weep
for what thine deny, cause if
I’m what I own
or what I owe, then who is deemed to be my foe,
and point his finger at my stiff?
For I’m all
brothers who may supplant;
I swear off
God, on these tombstones below, whence I’ve been out and in, I kneel or woe.
Shall I be someone? No I shan’t.
Α.Κ.
P.S.
Άι ιζ νόουλετζ οφ ίνγκλις όνλι χάου
μπου γιου μπουΣο ατ λιστ άι τράιντ
