Until a friend asked me to copy this poem, I had never heard of the Mexican modernist poet Amado Nervo. His poem expresses Nervo’s feelings about his life and how fairly it has treated him. At the end of his life, he takes responsibility for everything that has happened to him, in a strongly metaphorical language. He is at peace.

Here’s a translation:

As I near my sunset, I bless you, Life,
because you never gave me false hope,
nor unfair work, nor undeserved pain;
because I see at the end of my rough road
that I was the architect of my destiny;
that if I got honey or gall from things,
it was because I put gall or delicious honeys into them:
when I planted rose bushes, I always harvested roses.

True, my blossoms will give way to the winter:
But you never told me that May was eternal!

Without a doubt, my nights of pain were long;
but you never promised me only good nights;
and on the other hand, some were blessedly serene …

I loved, was loved, the sun caressed my face.
Life, you owe me nothing! Life, we are at peace!