The mistake is bitter not better,
Some of us make mistakes all hated,
Some spring their eyes in death,
Letting us wield the knife
Until the murder is a mistake.
The mistakes prevent big questions,
Fully answerable,
The rest of the folly is a work of the Devil,
The one who asks silliness when he appears.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem