The light of happy times goes by like me,
A twist occurs, for everything tonight;
May worms delet these times frustratingly,
So I can cause some minor work to fight.
These shivers block my path and send me out,
It needed time so well, this major rage;
Bend us, bend rules, so that we strike about
Enraging us so much that we engage.
Although the work contrived believes again,
I am that hard, I am that soft to stroke
A devil and its young, O God, amen!
The boss knows mine, the way I sign and choke.
This light is one of those proud facts of gold,
I feel it happier, it is ice-cold.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem