I have read of great lovers, great fighters, great men.
Touching hearts, touching nations, by sword or by pen.
I am no great lover. These things for the fair,
For the faint heart, the dreamer, the open, the bare.
I am no great fighter – I’m peaceful, I’m young.
Yesterday’s war songs are no longer sung.
And I am no great man. It is so. I confess.
But I’ll pick up a pen,
And I’ll try, nonetheless.
(2003)
