The loneliest poet in the world,
Has never written a word,
Has never cradled a poem,
Has never a rhyme, heard.
His loneliness is his poetry,
His emptiness, his poem.
It's hard to write,
When the heart feels not right
Impossible, to be a poet,
When loneliness turns you into stone
And you feel and know it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
How true, how true! If your heart's not on it, you can't write a sonnet!