In an improvement to suggestion
Not the reluctancy
Aftertaste won the day
With that and the remorse
Treading through the peat bogs and arguments
Meanwhile sowing the seeds to Brussels
I stayed, shortly, consuming my energy
Avoiding confrontation with the forest grove
But it wasn't the forest grove that drove my deportation
For it is my final revelation
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem