Have to find a few truths now
At day's end; if all's not well
Still have my few words, to tell:
Will stop fogging all your mirrors
With my image; appearing there;
You too courteous, to ever allow
Any idea why it comes; or how
The clueless lover can amend
The tale; there his mind, send
As if reality be revealed
By a pull, on a window's cord
Or a curtain, upon a stage;
Taken for granted's not for love,
If the other not engage;
No ones fault; can ill afford
To throw love twice, into the wind
While pretending, it returns.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem