Tossing and turning, dark sky, full of stars.
Five o'clock in the morning,
and I am already up.
Who can sleep if distress is all around?
Chatting carelessly with Patricia,
it's was she, who stepped on her lie, herself.
Me? I said nothing, well parted, and off I went.
But slowly boiling in me, inexorably, nothing but resentment,
I sent a message to her, my true feelings expressed.
Who's right? , who's wrong?
Would have I kept silence if she'd been in need to know?
or, would have I let out a secret, if it was not my call?
As for honest wolves or half-hushed foxes are concerned,
I conclude the less they know,
the less they hurt.
La Finita
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
wonderfully written excellent prose.