Find yourself
Notes can only play with beauty
If the moth has come out
Of its chrysalis
Inside your sobbing heart
Be yourself
Your beloved harp strings
Cannot come out
Of their hiding
If icicles hold them back
Love yourself
Play again with beauty
Let passion come out
Of your gin bottle
Show yourself
Your lord will be there
Should you hold high your candle
Dripping wax
Onto your harp strings
He will forgive
The Harpist plays
Your notes
Feel what is to be
What the candle dripping beside him
Decides
What happens to thee
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem