I wish I never lost the battle:
Though my head - of blood
And my hand of blade, heads
Of my past and days out-spent;
Which I started at the fore-end.
I wish I never won the mantle:
Although, it was all I wished for -
To win, and nothing else but get it
My way. Far from my thoughts
That I will ever lose the mantle still.
I wish I can have her all to me
And never lost a sight of the kisses
And the touches of your lines.
And now, I have lost the you - in me
Plus the me in you: all is dead.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem