I am in a portal of weekly order where my tongue is stuck and my heart is in a quarrel
I havent a word to say though i still say all that is witheld anyways
For no fame or relayed acclaimed poets here who boast for the masses to be laid in amazement and frozen awe
nay i havent anything to say in this weekly hour nothing at all
no just not this hour
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem