Theme For Denmark

The spirit of my father's body once said to me,

Go home and write
A page tonight.
And let that page come out of you---
Then, it will be true.

I wonder if it's that simple?
I am thirty, royal blood, born in Denmark.
I went to school at Wittenberg, returned and never looked back
Staying at Elsinore Castle with my mother and her new love.
I am the only member of this family distraught.
I walk from my chambers leading to the courtyard,
Through the gardens, where I cross the stones,
Of the steps of the fountain, coming to sit
To rest my chin upon my head and recap.
Think over in my mind, and write this page.

It's not easy to know what is true for you or me
At thirty, my age. But I guess I'm what
I feel and see and hear, Denmark, I hear you;
Hear you, hear me---we two---you, me, talk on this page.
(I hear Europe too.) Me---who?
Well, I like to eat, sleep, drink, and be in love.
I like to work, read, learn, and understand life.
I'd like to avenge my father, of whom
Uncle has murdered.
Or mother---for her to weep.
I guess being depressed doesn't make me NOT like
The same things other folks like wo are other emotions.
So will my page be sad that I write?
Being me, it will not be happy.
But it will be
A part of you, father.
You are dead---
Yet a part of me, as I am a part of you.
That's European.
Sometimes perhaps you don't want to be a part of me.
Nor do I often want to be a part of you
But we are, that's true!
As I learn from you,
I guess you learn from me---
Although you're older---and dead---
And somewhat more free.

This is my page for thee.