What use have I,
Some dull, bright mind's.
Kept hidden, locked away?
My fear of them and it will come,
When I will one day stand before.
My twisted tounge can't say.
Born, none start the race the same.
And it's why the star's so far apart,
All born, can't brightly shine.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem