Life is a spiral moving onwards.
Her colours are a fictitious iridescence of pain.
Foolish he who believes the opposite.
Ignorance alienates us from our purpose.
We can’t escape pain
by simply forgetting his taste.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
''And happiness is just pain’s negative unit.''Totally agree amigo della fuerto anemio. Though pain sucks, your Pain is worth lots of bucks. Atrium moves Roger