As I now descend down
from the twilight of the night gown
Youth gave me barbiturates
as the Doctor said, it is for your neurosis
I hope it gave you something else
Uphill will be the climb
towards the Dance Hall of the Studio at nine
I look towards my hind and find
only guns and roses
These are my sweet proses
And Hail! the crowd cried
the insane one has arrived
here Sire! take the best girl
and tonight, you dance with her
The ball went out of my court
in the last ball dance
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem