Thus the trees say,
say that it is so to be not?
we travled so far but yet thus must lie.
why my bucket is as full as can be
but yet you empty it,
with the lie of people call love.
what is love?
is it simply a sentens some man designed or a women who dreamed?
love to me is you thus next to thee which is me.
Thy damage is done,
thus my bucket is empty for you my love
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem