If stars are my slaves, and false
Heavens come my way, the proud
Part of existence is folly.
The glory of the cold whimpering
Adjudicates, this life is my heart
That throbs towards its intention.
Brighter words plague the stars
In my eyes, liquid fears are abiding
In the head and breast,
Like the toil of elements redefined.
A fleecy raincloud obstructs the oath
To cling onto, and rain overpowers me
With gusty winds overwhelming in
My favour, little hazards are the states
Of a satan who wears all my evil.
The rains are abiding in the resin
Left off by the previous rains.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem