Move away - from me, the form
Is parabolic in isolation, I’ll vet
The consequence and despair, despair
Will serve my hunger –
- Later -
And I’ll wait, wait for something,
Something greater -
Wait and I’ll wait
And I will have no pride -
The clouds will cast their twisted shadows
Over silver stallions that we ride.
The move away from - the publicans, the executors;
The prophets of destruction - shall we
Raise our crystal glasses, shall we
Utter bitter curses - curses
On the pain.
I’ll wipe away the tears - I’ll brush aside her hair;
It rains in these – this paradise -
A torrent of despair.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem