Hearts of gold,
Can still grow cold.
Hearts of gold,
Can still grow mold.
Hearts of gold,
Can still be sold.
Hearts of gold,
Can still be wrongly told.
Hearts of gold,
Can still grow old.
Hearts of gold,
Don't have to be bold.
They loose brilliance over the course of years,
They loose compassion over all the tears,
They're no longer sought after,
Because they're no longer made.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem