When you have died in her eyes
And she has drifted away
When the poem has lost rhyme
And the wine has dried
leaving stains in the glass
Be content with the memory
that she once loved you
and take advantage
by being
a man...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'...take advantage by being a man', a world of weight implied therein. Your style is 'tell it like it is' graceful, Stephen.