The doctor had so many potions
so many creams and lotions
dealing with the illness and emotion
how hard must their existence be?
Imagine the scene every day
keeping these troubles at bay
with little or nothing to say
writing prescriptions in his own way
Proposing a method or task
illness their medicine's mask
hoping the problem won't cast
a spell on the patient too fast
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem