A well penned poet,
That is me,
Laying out my life,
For all to see,
Moving to,
So many places,
New names,
Friends and faces,
From lands where cold,
Is constantly felt,
To lands where an ice-cube,
Would instantly melt,
Leaving behind,
Friends far amd few,
To begin a life,
Once more anew,
These changes that caused,
Such sorrow and pain,
Always repeating,
Again and again,
Otheres would call this a gift,
While I believe it just,
Creates a rift,
Between friends both,
One on either side,
Seperating two,
Who in one-another they used to confide,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem