Inside the book, there are many pages
Stories of those of ages
Inside the page, there are many histories
Histories that portrays mysteries
Swiftly opening the book
Tentatively, sitting down and look
You will see nothing but rife
Until you get to the page of life
The page with the stories
Of how you used your entire glories
You will be carried away by the first paragraph
Which contains your best photograph
Getting into the middle which lag the tenderness grace
You will be hatting everything including a single phrase
When you realise those errors you've committed
And you realise things that you should've omitted
Don't tear the page because of your errors
The blood in your hands is of terrors
That's your page out of the book
Histories will name you rook
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem