A hill – raped and scarred,
Its natural beauty forever marred…
Staring at it I realize,
How easily one meets one’s demise…
Só my love has gone!
She the vixen, I the fox…
But I didn’t run,
I’ll just put another quarter into the jukebox.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
So spirited a poem emotionally high.