call it the libido driven life
a woman of every type
'i love only you' sent to many
red roses for them to see
chased and un-beholden to anybody
sort of an unchained human malady
this casanova in poetry
think, 'is it good for me? '
valentino had long been dead
unremembered
and Don Juan riding on this horse
with a sword
fell off from a ford
they do not exist, they are all in the minds
they all dissolve like mist on the pines
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem