My penniless lover
He sits on a sofa
Waving his hand like a millionaire,
He has his finger to the remote control.
He owns the world,
Voice thundering in the rain,
Like phantom of the opera
His voice echoes around the room.
Possessed by no means,
His eyes penetrating to one thing,
And that is the big TV set
In front of him.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem