It cost me water,
It cost me tears,
That I cried with blood,
Rushing like a flood.
To know my line,
And put away my wine,
Now it cost me life,
For this I believe.
It me truth,
To know my root,
Or tell myself a lie,
That I'll never die.
It cost me pain,
Not to know my end,
But just walk into it,
Like a bottomless pit.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem