in one of my poems that i wrote last night
i started well you say, something great at the start
and the way i ended it, you say, was bad,
nothing but a cliche
about the shallow minds of people around me
(and of course, if i may be allowed to tell you,
must have offended you,
precisely, you were around me during that night
when i made a very bad ending
on that poem which started just right
on the first two stanzas) ,
but no offense was meant, the poem was written
with malice towards none,
it just had to end that way,
there was no more
electricity
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem