Set not much on a frail human heart
Fails it does more than needed for ones own part
Dallied he with a dame pouring love of flirtatious art
When the conquest be gained, his tone spelt only tart
Annihilating her trust of brutal male pride
Farthest from her searching sight he does now hide
Lost hopes and loneliness as her companions beside
Her life had but lost its once confident stride
Treasuring the moments, that beautified her life,
Desolated she be, her heart ripped with knife
For what if ones ponders, but for an unwanted strife,
Could not those eyes see, and the heart but feel, her piteous sight!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Good writing, unique in style and theme.