Sleep is for the Weak
I promised not to drink the wine;
I would be good and sober,
Self-controlled in all things.
After all, self-reflection is a virtue.
But then they showed me just how errant
That thinking was,
My lips are purple,
And I have not slept,
But I have smiled.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem