A poet, by definition, needs words if I am that ever.
No matter if I'm burning up here or it's freezing out there.
I'm a worrywart, and my work's an extension of what I am.
You'll be amused by my worries as they are happily not yours.
After reading it, tell me whether it's a comedy acted out
by a grimfaced player or a Sophocles tragedy by a clown like me.
When you see no way out from a ring of fire, don't lose heart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem