Scribbles I scribe
Etched on core
None must expunge
My speech on papers
My discourse of wits
They hear those,
Whose sight tells
Philosophies of life to live
They who die desire
Shrieking with pleas
their lusts insatiate
and forever froze
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
They who die desire! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.