The pent up lust like the pent up anger
Is the sealed boiler, bent to explode.
The spent out lust, like the spent out anger,
Is lidless cauldron, empty by vapour.
Men are pent up and harlots are spent out.
Where is the juice of life?
03.11.2004
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem