each hidden toe and i wear them out front,
consoles the face of the many more.
you must not keep them from their brother,
untill after their sister has kissed them.
and though the leather soul of the matronly is,
it is and was passed regrettably over for yours.
and do not smile like that for one day yours will
be as well like that grape in the sun..
does not it's breath smell as that of the apple.
and in sleep the serpent does what it wants,
too interrupt your rest and more.
while the rest of your dreams, you hide, deep inside.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem