I wrestle with the devil on my quest
To reach for a favour from Words
Who know the heart of my thoughts
And the uneasy mind thereof
But behind you suing me to answer
For breaching the law of grammar
Where words are slaves to ambiguity
Forget not my warrant in poetry
O caviler the rules are under my feet
I breach them to sound bitter or sweet
Leaving your head a wide space
And my mind you'll need to trace
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem