I have a garden,
It grows only discord and hate.
I feed my heart,
From its bitter plate...
The plants need no water,
No tending,
No care.
They grow on my happy little childish soul,
And consume everything that seems fare...
They all grow very strong,
They spread very fast.
They are filling my being,
My future,
My past...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem