THE RETURNEE

By Yasen Vedrin

(Pearl Seeker)

I do not fear to fade away alone

Amidst the snowdrifts of a winter’s night.

For fate is beautiful, in ways its own,

Even beyond the final line in sight.

And even if unjust it may appear,

It follows its own providential theme.

Life comes, and then it leaves this earthly sphere,

And every breath is but a drop in stream.

One person dies, another comes to birth.

The torch is passed by bloodlines. With Olympus.

And laurel? It is not chosen on this earth,

But sits like halos on the heads that window us.

If I can just ignite a tiny spark,

The fire will continue when I’m gone.

Why should I mourn my ending in the dark,

Or let unfulfilled yearnings weigh me down?

How long does a footprint left behind

Tremble upon the waves before it dies?

Forgot, it vanishes into the blind

Oblivion where the water columns rise.

And only he who seeks will ever find

The treasure that another gave away —

Even if lost chimeras of the mind,

In which he lived or didn't yesterday...

The world is not the ultimate, sole cause

Of all the things that happened to occur.

Before I leave it, bound by nature's laws,

I want no things for me, I do aver.

For when I cross that final, silent sill —

I am a returnee out there, no less?

Only then, let my weeping eyes fulfill

The grief that can no longer hurt or press...