I am a solemn poet,
Of wise sayings do I speak,
I sit upon my stool each day
And think of things to think
I am solemn poet,
Of virtues do I write,
Until the day I discovered wine
And began to reach new heights
I am a solemn poet,
I soar high each day,
Even off the side of a cliff,
Oh, 'What a pity I couldn't fly away! '
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem