I've had so many phrases
Coming to my thoughts
In cheek brow many gazes
Of each they're on and ought's
The mildly dim ago
That every time is stealing
And what we to ourselves owe
In its today own healing
Like May that comes again
After the winter's dim
To give seeds to our pen
In the many shades of whim
When my heart breaks through
To give of its steady beat
Although it's just up to you
How you these aching treat
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem