You think that I just love to mope,
To mope, despond, cry & grieve.
But I see just you as my hope,
I trust you – yet do not believe.
You tell me a regular story –
Too fabulous for to perceive,
Too fabulous for me, I’m sorry…
I trust you but cannot believe.
Though I cannot call you a liar
Per se I expect you to leave
In doubts my soul, my fen-fire,
I trust you but hardly believe.
I used to rise then break in flinders,
I wear my heart on my sleeve.
Is it your or my flame that cinders?
I trust you but should I believe?
A hedgehog am I – cut my stickers
For waves in my hot chest to heave
So calm while my butterfly flickers,
I trust you and want to believe!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem