It knew her well of his lost spring;
its voracious appetite for its knowledge
but not' this like a cat too purr with it,
however between awake forever with it
trying to pour milk out/in it's dish
'outside him' with its deep sweet fairy sleep.
It s' is found very still and full with depth,
not wanting to go' it knows no other road'; ; but
she had taught it from him.
Bye now many miles, his smile is pulled up in sleep.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem