Autobiography

How ludicrous these efforts to translate
Into one's private tongue a public fate!
Instead of poetry divinely terse,
Disjointed notes, Insomnia's mean verse!
—John Shade, "Pale Fire"

I am a man and yet not "man," it seems—
Mere heteronym, just one of several beings,
Like rolls of coin struck from a common plate.
How ludicrous, these efforts to translate

My several selves to one coherent thing,
Be it elfin poet, troll, or Ming
The Merciless, to map moods, to conflate
Into one's private tongue a public fate.

I am that I am: An author, true
To my own interests and needs, to strew
Across the page my bland, unleavened verse,
Instead of poetry divinely terse.

How can it matter who I am? The lines
Are either good or bad in their designs
Alone; they either work or they disburse
Disjointed notes, Insomnia's mean verse.

Though ending couplet is not quite in form,
John Shade himself were quite outside the norm.