It's been a long time since I wrote a poem;
There's been a huge difference after leaving home.
A penny a second, the charge of strife;
A weeping a penny, the charge of life.
I've changed a lot since I last wrote -
I spent too much time on a ferry boat.
The one thing I would like to share
Is the hated dust of the city air:
Letters are math, or so I think,
Unless my brain did not cease to shrink.
To think is to be, that's what they say,
Unless everyone had been drunk all day.
The stirring's not complete until
The coffee has begun to spill.
To serve your most beloved soul
Is to go against your destined role.
A faint voice is heard as this poem goes along
The rivers of wonders all wrapped in a song.
Those who just speak may listen for now
To the talents of which for themselves they endow.
To make sense is nice but to make none is best;
To live for the moment is the climax of rest.
A penny a pitch is the cost to stay cool;
A giggle a gag is the cost for a fool.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem