Nothin' bout the airy nights fascinates
Intrepid nights taken back fo' shiny rivers
Chances get up, but fakes fall down,
When grimy grins win in shadows of sin,
Instances return up and over again,
Like a circular cell without the bells and whistles,
Drizzling instances of yore,
Or a fornight, I hope to see no more-
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem