Stop feeding me with hope that abstract is betrothed to
Let me cuddle this end that offers me a home.
If life is where dreams lurk and go
My desire unlocks to craft my tomb another home.
This me and that I see while asleep contradict;
A reeking me, and the alluring beyond grip.
I will savour the inglorious crown as a hypocrite,
Lifting the veil on my weakness and sleep this sleep.
Let me go, and lay with fortunes and rape my stars
And all that deride my derelict self here to embrace.
Dear heaven do not by your mightier will this alters,
Nor by blissful breeze blows it off apace.
Starve me of that grace that makes this delay
Or bring me these fortunes and stars before my decay.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem