The music of the lines we never
Want to finish: but ah! there be
Always a line as in a race.
The winner touches the line first
Raised in glory the hands and falls
Covered with kisses and laurels.
So Beauty too. She too wins easily
But then to be human too, she falls
Covered with kisses and laurels too.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem