The declaration has a word of rejection,
But I conceive of the differences and award
A man who chooses, signs and forfeits.
I include a focus, a passion, and bravado,
Much of the tool is in precocious flowering,
Much of venom entails a sting to beleaguer.
The ironic tone of my songs are forgiving you,
Dancing on the chests of the chairs,
Choosing which to sit on is discomfort.
Must I complain and resit my examination?
The focus is on me, the parabola will begin,
And a script is fought for by monuments.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem