NOW IT ENVIES HIM
HIS DESOLATION…
March couldn’t part with its nature,
Made me give up the isolation.
Then it marched into someone else…
Somewhere, not near, far away…
And, now, envies him his desolation.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A thought provoking piece of poetry in your onw wonderful style 10 Chris