The glass has a flimsiness, frailty of course,
Do not deceive me with fraudulence or fraud.
Glass shatters from impulses,
Glass has love for the actions,
This glass I hold and dropp reminds.
The frantic wept, as no other weeper,
The fraternity has evaporated,
Never the escapade of shattering glass
Has gone by without returning,
And so the glass has an escapade.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem