Everything that I faint
To love the least I taint
Colours, things, artifacts
Now paving the way to plaint
Referral gains of pains to manes
Nothing strains in the trains
To love the most I pliant
Tried to find what the mains
Craving, cleaving, creasing
Minding the ways to cranes
Towards end to start again
Loving, leaving, living and lining
To fulfill what is left
Doing what to try wrong
Happy ending never finding
In the end we’ll strut again
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem