Why pretend
When you waits for my end
You guise as friend
Inwardly ravenly you tend
Thou understand not what I mends
Nor what I vends
But play along as if you defends
Waiting till my cloth rends
But no matter what life present
On God my life is contigent
My shield!
When alone on battle field
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Then when hand helps hand In mixing stones with sand Thus the concrete makes a pole stand Now when poets compliments a poetess then we are lifting up our prowess O wise Faeo Lyre Clive! Your comments made me feel alive