Why was it after all?
Beheld that beauty
Nothing so important as equity
But imaging that physique
Non-consideration of quality
The chat sprout guilty
It was fair my comrade
That your truth is killing
That i fed and am yet to fade
Fat is hell am knowing
A feeling dining from hell
An incident so coincident
That quality and quantity had it
Now a burden to bear.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem