The will, the fire, the excitement is gone from me now.
I am but an empty shell of the former being I us to be.
I nolonger see...see...the good that knowledge can teach us
for what good is knowledge with noone to share it with, to administer it to.
The fire inside me that use to shoot up my bones and keep me on my toes, the fire that could melt away my clothes, it has died like the rose.
Oh beautiful, bewitching, splendid knowledge I persue you nomore, for if I can not teach anyone what is the point in learning, in yearning for knowledge.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem