Blubbering love isn't profitable
Practical love of action
Is the real affection
Our brothers whom we claim to love a lot
Whose looks we forgot long a go
They who left us while in their youth
Those turned in to vampires under duress
Deserve to see the fruits of that love
They are well-ordered like radio cassettes
Their suffering can still end.
STEPHANIE APILA
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem