We all wish our wishes come true
We wish what some else has or does
We say we are not greedy, yet we wish more than we deserve
We want to fill our glass with nothing more than benefit,
We want to do whatever we want without being limited by some other pretension
We lose composure each time everything turns out and is not in our favor.
We live, and our lives are all moved by the same useless but precious thing: Desire.
Sometimes we crave for it to end, but mostly we want it to fill us with pleasure.
We are all born by it, and some of us die for it. Wish something is all it takes, to make a new life begin, or some other to end
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem