It's the suggestion song
Thumbs came to cured
Didn't bow
One movement
Right there the spades
Stood there to be insecure
Rake of a dozen light in beams
By a stud who wasn't
Which centered in mood?
Stood there in feelings
Mole for a while, cracked
Beneath my thought
Stirred in the mole of insecure
Right thousands years
Right there the spades of why
But even at the starting-post
Now to deem a rook
Pull down my stroke
Not a single cop
I'll walk on way
In a sway
Stifle at trot
But even at the view-post balustrade
Light orchestrates in beams
Passionate shriek
There isn't a slight dread
So only to mitigate
Hearing walls to fall
A ring sounded tall
Ebbing onto a gold-nugget
Right there the spades of why
With the best boots
With shoes to the toe
It's a running gag
That is secure in space
Right there the spades of why
But even at the view-post balustrades
All the holds in common
Every distinct regard
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem