Serious and wounded, finding a place to hide and lick your
wounds, feeling sorry for oneself.
Lasting for just a little while usually, it protects our
egos for a time of recooperation and gaining strength back.
It is not always a bad thing, as you can obviously see, as
long as it doesn't become a habit.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem