What didn't happen here,
but shall also sprain,
alive with syncope as ember
I didn't have the groove being crouched
Nor my ether... by free bugs without salt
Somewhat sat with the arrival instant
why not sit 're not even know that
That these are heated my eyes to yield
like the roasted chestnuts, under the shield
What you're winding fell slightly it
with trembling hands and feet
I'm more sp*nk being its hardline
it as one full sea billow in the sky
I was good enough for the charm
coerced until this flair
And out who brought it, ask me not
but gave rod, in order to get rid of it
And in point of hell, with its own falling
like the cloudy weather, nearly crying
How far have its own a monkey freed
ropes to swing with soap of weed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem