Don't spend much time for me,
And questions don't ask.
With eyes so kindly, faithfully,
My hand don't touch.
Don't go through the spring pool,
Treading my heels long.
I know, that our meeting though
Will be in vain... so on.
You think - I'm proud so
Not to become your friend?
That's not by pride, but sorrow,
I keep my head so straight.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem