Mr.Strickland reminds me of you.
If I were Blanche, I would do what she did too.
Like a sophisticated beast
Howling in the territory of yours
So primitive and so civilized.
In a cocoon weaved of solitude
Poor Blanche throws herself in the abyss
Swoon over your charm,
But you are lured by the Moon.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem