Before Sleep
By Дмитро Кошма
How many thoughts and poems of mine forgotten,
How many sentences on paper, meaningless and broken,
How many mistakes and acts of shame in my younger years,
How much time was lost and disappeared.
There is nothing to regret — there are those I miss,
And at night, when I lie down to sleep,
My heart begins to speak.
So many questions rise within my consciousness:
Why do you live according to your conscience?
What have you lost today?
Will my parents wake tomorrow?
Will the cold phone call come,
And darkness, carrying terrible news,
Bring me closer to death?
Before sleep, I become afraid,
Again, my heart torments me,
It keeps asking, keeps reproaching.
I know it holds the right thought.
I know. I promise.
In time, I’ll make things right,
And then I fall asleep.
Nietzsche and Plato help me through the night…