Young life is the regretful worry,
Everlasting woe has resented one man
And his medallion of good faith.
This invitation to horrors exceeds
The torment of a life without chains.
My caged parrot talks forever
In his lair of habits so golden and chuckling.
Young parrots are birds of belief,
Incredible though they are seen,
Hearing them redefines loyalty
Like the traitor in the dark,
Of this ceiling we are gifts.
The human liar is a faith,
His saunter fends for memory
As in this sense a museum
Uplifts a scene of nature
So jagged with rocks and trees
Of silver wines.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem