There are many words in my mind,
Few escape,
Through the pipes of the throat,
To the eyes of a face.
Breath, breath,
Swallow perfume,
Choke on hallow death,
Make death anew.
Swallowing each drop,
As if it were the last.
The poison in the chalice.
Is green and yet black.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem