Degrees of the planet I await from the sun,
A careful blend of drink that is drunk,
By the skin and the brain,
Less of the monument I stank.
Doctor likes the request to be made,
That a solitude is about,
A faithful person is always betrayed
Into the causes he is at bout.
The disease is procured by the prevention
I detest in the initial phases.
It will cure you, my love, of all dimension,
I detest the treatment of these days.
Days and nights, weeks and months,
Go by and by like a talking nightmare,
Foreign to the power of the sevenths
Of the weeks that are day-care.
I think it ridiculous of your jolt,
I’d like to think it a blessing,
That I am adult,
And it delivered a caressing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem