Pander after beauty,
The bounty minds the cost;
An aura of praise
Haloes the bifurcation
Of a million stars
That tell of cosmic sport.
Pride castigates in part
But steals the day;
Pears fall sealed,
Corn and beans
Wash away appetite;
We place all our cards
On the table at home;
Shops closed with books,
We go off to school;
Marathon the coming day
Will precede sleep.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem