As a child I was fortunate to be alone. This loneliness led me to books. From Chechow, Dostojewski, Hemingway, Shakespear, Tolstoi, London; and later Saadi, Hafes, Rumi, Bedel, Iqbal, Hameed, Rahman, Saryab I have learned to be human. Goethe, Heine, Thomas Mann und Hermann Hesse showed me another side of my second homeland.
At the moment I'm busy with German literature, but I would like to read some english authors. At this point, a poem from Sir Thomas Wyatt sprints to my mind:

Sir Thomas Wyatt (ca.1503 - 1542)

I am as I am and so will I be
But how that I am none knoweth truly.
Be it evil, be it well, be I bound, be I free,
I am as I am and so will I be.
I lead my life indifferently,
I mean no thing but honestly.
And though folks judge full diversely,
I am as I am and so will I die.

I do not rejoice nor yet complain.
Both mirth and sadness I do refrain
And use the mean since folks will feign.
Yet I am as I am, be it pleasure or pain.

Diverse do judge as they do trow,
Some of pleasure and some of woe,
Yet for all that, nothing they know.
But I am as I am wheresoever I go.

But since that judgers do thus decay
Let every man his judgement say.
I will it take in sport and play
For I am as I am whosoever say nay.

Who judgeth well, well God him send.
Who judgeth evil, God them amend;
To judge the best therefore intend
For I am as I am and so will I end.

Yet some there be that take delight
To judge folks` thought for envy and spite.
But whether they judge me wrong or right
I am as I am and so do I write,

Praying you all that this do read
To trust it as you do your creed
And not to think I change my weed
For I am as I am however I speed.