These tears shed disobediently and forensically, shallowed bent...
Were Thy pure evil and diabolically sent?
Like the greatest rapids or falls to fall....
So Expedite, far away the squall.
Hay makers won too Three...
Loveliest days beneath this tree.
Shall stay language d, away and adrift...
To fondest memories odoriferous Thy script.
Etched yet furthest deep....
Languidly solid and paralyzed in unconscious sleep.
For no more no more be welcomed unsought after tears....
Until at long last, begone the Dawn's angriest fears
since many many years.
To reappear...
Dearest heart
So near, to leer.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem