Floods, torture, emotional distraction,
Dutiful, hardly beautiful, intended destruction
Attempting progress, viewing no sightlines
He needs a new time, place, and wardrobe,
A view with a reliable sunset
Once, the property was pristine,
Now it lives in eternal decline,
Nothing flowery left to speak of
So it's off to a new temperature,
A climate that believes in the end of stagnation and the beginning of stimulation
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem