Isn't my heart holy, more full of life's beauty,
since I fell in love? Why did you like me more
when I was prouder and wilder, more full
of words, yet emptier?
Well, the crowd likes whatever sells in the
marketplace; and no one but a slave
appreciates violent men. Only those who
are themselves godlike believe in the gods.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Well, the crowd likes whatever sells in the marketplace; and no one but a slave appreciates violent men. Only those who are themselves godlike believe in the gods. so much of wisdom. tony