Were you good,
you'd hate my film of bad:
its cruelty, hate, greed and lack of remorse.
You'd hope its author not bad,
but sad or mad.
You wouldn't be seeking and suffering yourself,
being tempted to fall,
at worst;
or watching and pitying or falling in love;
or condemning,
and by me being cursed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem