In red zone, Three Vanities whistle tunes like,
“Apple been gilded it had”,
“Lily absorb some reddish juices he did”
“Book of Divine Blood read by the blind she will be”
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What next, what left to salt the wound?
Some indigo on yellowish sky,
and even if only “So Be It” might you say,
than all Three shout happily,
“The salt of the earth you are, indeed”
(was never written)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Thank you, it is very kind of you, I am honoured...