Back from battle field, safe and unhurt
In the works’ riot of nothing
I won the struggle of meaninglessness
Without a stroke or without a kill
A bag of pleasure and few bottles of delight
From the world of valueless
I carried them like precious pearls
Jam packed and tight in the wagon of my head
In this harbor of stupor, lazily, I spread
With much effort and hard labor
In the bank of tranquility I engage to unload
Before I dive in life’s serious business
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem