Perfection's gleam a star in the eye of the beholder
To another but a scar darkness growing colder
Point for the winning team, disaster to the loser
what's pornographic to a priest would seem an act of love to the seducer
Mud, quenching liquid for a thirsty man, gaging in the throat of another
whore, known to all the clan, to her child mother
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem