I belong to the far reaching sea,
I will have nothing if it will not have me.
I am born of the froth, and the waves marching strong.
I will die with the salt, and the fish all in throngs.
I have only one truth that I know to be true,
The ocean won’t falter when fickle men do.
Of all of the things I think myself to be,
Of just one I am sure,
I belong to the sea.

Who am i
Before i was born
What was i doing
In the mysteries of the unknown
Do i have a name
Where do i call my home
Did i say goodbye
Before i was gave birth by my mom.
Why did i chose my parents.
Who carried me first,
Who cleaned me up,
Who wiped my first tears
Who were my first friend
Why do i have to be in haste
Why do i have to die
Where are you taking me to
Am i going home ?

These are my modern English translations of ancient Greek poems and epigrams by Sophocles, including antinatalist poems and epigrams.

It’s a hundred times better not be born;
but if we cannot avoid the light,
the path of least harm is swiftly to return
to death’s eternal night!
Sophocles (circa 497-406 BC), Oedipus at Colonus, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Not to have been born is best,
and blessed
beyond the ability of words to express.
—Sophocles, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Never to be born may be the biggest boon of all.
—Sophocles, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Oblivion: What a boon, to lie unbound by pain!
—Sophocles, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

How happy the soul who speeds back to the Source,
but crowned with peace is the one who never came.
—a Sophoclean passage from the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The happiest life is one empty of thought.
—Sophocles, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Consider no man happy till he lies dead, free of pain at last.
—Sophocles, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

What is worse than death? When death is desired but denied.
—Sophocles, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

When a man endures nothing but endless miseries, what's the use of hanging on day after day,
edging closer and closer toward death? Anyone who warms his heart with the false glow of flickering hope is a wretch! The noble man should live with honor and die with honor. That's all that can be said.
—Sophocles, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Children anchor their mothers to life.
—Sophocles, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

How terrible, to see the truth when the truth brings only pain to the seer!
—Sophocles, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Wisdom outweighs all the world's wealth.
—Sophocles, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Fortune never favors the faint-hearted.
—Sophocles, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Wait for evening to appreciate the day's splendor.
—Sophocles, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

We need evening to appreciate the day's attractions.
—Sophocles, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Evening helps us appreciate the day's attractions.
—Sophocles, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Since time dawned
only the dead have experienced peace;
life is snow burning in the sun.
—Nandai, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Keywords/Tags: Sophocles, Greek, translation, translations, English, antinatalist, antinatalism, procreation, contraception, contraceptive, birth, born, death, life and death, day, eve, evening, night, fortune, wisdom, wealth, truth, pain, mother, mothers, mother and child, children

We are descendants of legends,
making our own ones.

I appeared that one random day some years ago when the stars were galloping.

since then each step I take picturesque the clip I've been rolling.

I remember that day when mom told me that to live was to encounter a blessing and struggling was the way we inherit a trophy for generations that lived.

I was deceived by the unrealistic heroism of many martyrs who died before me.

in fact, the spotlights were not meant for me as I expected. fate put me far removed from any truth I’ve worshiped.

some days I move in urge and fly very high. I heal my wounds and forgive people who randomly get me to taunt.

some days I scream without words and get drowned in my own nightmares. I drop death thinking of any chance to collect my own mythical strikes.

after all, I still reopen my eyes to a bizarre sight; I wonder if it is the answer to all the prayers I've murmured in my solemn nights

or perhaps it is just the doom I've been daydreaming about all the time.

of the truths spoken and the marks of my barefoot steps, I pledge for an eternal gaiety. And a place of my own kind.

an unrepentant poet
walks among the world
seeing and not believing
anything perceived

he dreams of inconsistent
anomalies of existanse
sees to the end of time
in imaginary universe

and no one says a word

the story begins in this sentence
and ends when you stop reading
you are the creator of all that will be

the door opened and you were born
did you knock or just drop into
it does not matter you are here now

male or female or something else
life was needed and you became it
walk if you can is a metaphor

the world is but a reflex
and dreams are made by god small g
a mess of confusion is it's problem

What would I do
If I could live this life again?
What would I do?
What would I say?
Who would I be?
Not much.
Not much.
I would be me
I would be a new born baby