I saw a portrait of mine
on that wall which was shine;
the frame was gold plated
and picture was absolute fine.
I have a beautiful human nest
at where is all luxury and rest;
Elegance aura, beautiful view and cute moon
everything which, for a man, is best.
But here I am painfully restless
I always saw my dark shadowy face;
which laugh at me and shake me-
'Coward! You! You had left FLEUR-de-LIS.
In heavy rain and thunder
only look you with eyes wonder;
under that usual tree, dreaming
but you left her, with deep scar.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem