Bulldoze a desire; that’s crime!
Like nick the bud, before time.
I had spent some time without grunge.
Why cut my feathers? Oh, to plunge!
That lexis had me rammed to gloom.
Now queasy of love; I will not bloom!
I had this vivid castle in Spain!
Then, why detach and give me pain?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem