So concerned with vanity,
That I chipped a nail
I walked along the beach at day
Not knowing the beauty of night
I wait at the River Styx for you
As I fumble the coin in my pocket
Your arms are my Achilles heel
I'll wait for you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love the creativity. Sometimes writers get too cute with their creativity and make the poem totally incomprehensible . This was not done here. How wonderful! GW62