What is the point of living a dead mans life?
When the one who shares your bed does not understand your strife?
Why commit the crime of interpersonal rife?
When you don't understand me despite my bare rough ignite.
It is imperative we part, because I cannot be a barbarian all my last.
It is my life time of love for your love,
You are better off without my moth eaten scarf.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem