You tell, you wanna bury the past.
You tell, your spring has come;
so summer must not last!
You wanna kill the flower plant
that our hands put to lovely land!
So be it, if this brings to you smile;
no matter it sounds sadly vile.
You tell me so many things;
all new dreams and new songs.
Hard tales that hearts have to break
to keep many hearts happily perfect.
All your butterfly words look creepy worms!
Feel pity to feel where they could squirm!
You be happy no matter what happens.
Good luck to your newly seven heavens.
But don`t take leave from me with a smile;
it kills the earth nice and smells bloody vile.
You wanna kill the flower plant
that our hands put to lovely land!
So be it, if this brings to you smile;
no matter it sounds sadly vile.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem