How do we come to terms with gifts?
Killing others for them is an illness,
Though willing are men who are spendthrifts,
Cancelling the debt, taking life to stillness.
How do we stay at the height of power?
Maybe our presents are too many
Or the losing has been about in the hour,
The hours of our life are any?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem