were times I imagined that I was a cascade,
effusive artesian well, I boundlessly displayed,
years wandering, on the horizon driving
forget my infelicitous fate, the distress surviving.
were times I wanted to be a small wave
hover, swash, as a white horse free to behave,
by ships as predestined gliding in monsoon,
when night falls, dancing with the moon.
were times I wished I had become insane,
amid life’s markets, this earthly domain,
people’s ups and downs, much to agonize,
cast off depression, sorrow, so that nothing ties.
were times I desired my soul to fly very high
avoid vicissitudes, away from this world awry,
to break up loneliness, deep dreams, however,
encountered my shadow, forlorn for ever and ever.