Oh, really, it's so unfair
If only I could justify myself
What have I done? And what have you seen?
Why did you suspect me of every sin?
I never gave you the air
You saw me leaving, it's true
I thrust my way for so long and lost
I've changed my place, returned to my past
And finished the game for it could not last
I didn't escape from you
I used to walk through your life
Without a trace, an invisible being
You tell them about my daily routine
You cry when I fall, applaud if I win…
Unreal to come to light
Forborne with the time it took
I followed your steps in withering sands
I crossed your way in alien lands
The closer I come the further you stand
The more disappointed you look
But now I step aside
Too much for my hope, and I look away
I forced every door, any trick I tried
Wherever I look - never catch your eye
I'm sorry, if you are blind
I heard that you called me proud
Sometimes I merely wish I could fly
But someone obliged me to shoulder the sky
He's kicking my knees and wondering why
Its dome is crashing so loud
_________________
(St. Petersburg, July 22 2013)
PRIDE/PROUD in English is a vexed word because can be used positively or negatively. In the line at the end - I HEARD YOU CALLED ME PROUD - there is real hurt, you're being criticized as aloof, vain, unfeeling, any number of negative things. But that closing image in the last three lines is so powerful! It is an image of almost Promethean suffering, which is redemptive, I believe. If this man you (and by you I mean the speaker of your poem) you have faithfully followed knew the true dimensions of your existence he would be shamed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Forborne with the time it took…withering… never catch your eye. Not receiving the knowing attention which should be present in a close relationship is hard. Appreciated the telling of complexity and pride and broken communion. I empathize.