the very life of most us
lingers around perpetual
mere acts of mar...
blaming and enjoying
other's highness and lowness
ending up in often
trifle mutual war...
the only cure that would do
would be an analepsis
of our pebbles play...
or of when we once used to
babble the same way...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem