The cold lips of narcissists are indifferent
To the warm beauty of words; that carelessly
Issue forth from them. Soft vision are heaven sent.
Yet they are indifferent to hard reality.
And the soul's white purity is indifferent
To dark, sordid particulars. It will never
Mingle with them. These dichotomies are present
In time, and they will remain with us forever.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem