Don't look at me, I feel a lock
A continuous war with the world
Around me a lot of mold,
And we, subjected to a clock
Autumns kneels to dusty hackle
Shadow of time, also falls short
Armies ask blood for bread and tort
And clown make fortunes from cackle
Cunning statues in world, a lot
And power makes one step behind
A bat, for a flock, you remind
And another secret not
We met together many years
Road is narrow, time is cold
Fortune and misery, sicknes and gold
Can you pay the truth, with tears?
(translated from romanian)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem