Your integument is taming to my tongue.
Two kinds of wisdom if you follow,
These chapters of Kingdom come,
Earth, and Heaven, and all Kings sung.
He told me selfishness,
Would bid me silenced and due me done.
On boastful voyages,
Across salty riverbed runs.
Mistake me if I'm wrong,
But am I fruitless for the sake of the snake?
Or am I founded upon
The opaque that enraptured
The beauty of our taste?
My mesodermal
Has brought me boiled
A blemished pseudo squall.
May I say these words?
Or does my blood coil ungodly entangles
To these branded watered brawls?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem