Passions pounding like fists of vengeance
torturing the helpless heart of love
all the time these cruel passions cry out:
'You hit me! ' they yell. 'Cruel heart!
You are the murderer, not I.'
The poor heart slacks down with fright
all of a sudden it even succumbs
the death of a heart isn't mourned
only the demise of passions
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem