Don't tease the tress
That for good reasons breaks
Engagements with your mistress
As she cringes from her most sibilant snakes.
Don't squeeze the space
In which your succor lies
Although for strange reasons you opt to misplace
Your trust as you overlook your lover's cries for you to excise extramural ties.
Don't please the place
Which embraces seeds of your downfall
In a rapid pace as her lace
Pleads, ‘Love me with all your heart. That's all.'
Don't accuse the ace
Of bludgeoning your broken batons
Whose genuine jamborees can't face
The reality crated in cartoon cartons.
Don't freeze the face
That once meant the world to you
When the mere crease of her dress
Fired-up femme fatale feelings for your heart to chew anew.
Don't tweeze the trace
That signifies the end of the bend
In which you brace for a race
To ensure no one on your hill can ascend or extend.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem