* *
My poems I do not hatched,
Anything happened, I don't deny
Sometimes a coward smoothened its by a pen,
A hero minted its sometimes.
An enamored wrote its to height,
A liar scribbled, filled by a lies,
And I dreamed about the lines, to write,
As to say, by the arm of the God.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem