Reckoning

I was looking for something else and found this poem.

The Reckoning by Marin Sorescu (1936-1996)

There comes a time
When we have to draw a line under us
A black line
To do the summing up.

The few moments when you are about to be happy,
The few moments when we were nearly beautiful,
The few moments we were almost a genius,
Occasionally we've met
Mountains, trees, water
(What happened to them? Do they still exist?)
Each adds up to a brilliant future--which we've lived.

A woman we've loved,
Plus the same woman who didn't love us
Equals zero.

A quarter of year of studies
Makes several million fodder words
Whose wisdom we have gradually eliminated.

And finally, a fate
Plus another fate (Now where does that come from?)
Equals two (Write one, carry one,
Perhaps, who knows, there is a life hereafter)