Guilty pleasures we long to touch
Burning our fingers on aching calves
When strawberries are just out of hands clutch
Every last brimming empty moment fills our epitaphs.
Greed's root, a palmed hand turned face down
Always takes what it cannot absorb-
All cost, without any of the blame.
Desire is a sin.
But today, there's scarcely any stigma or shame
Or burden to add, place in our heart or soul
Happily, we're branded by burning coal
When strawberries are just out of hands clutch
Free we won't be, selectively judged.
.............
Guilty, are the pleasures longed to touch
Burning our fingers on aching calves
When strawberries are just out of the hands clutch.
Every last empty moment fills our epitaphs
Greed's root a palmed hand turned face down
Always takes what it cannot absorb,
All costs, without any of the blame.
Desire is a sin.
But today, there's scarcely any stigma of shame.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem