You might as well just hang up your old coat
unfortunately, I know you are here to stay
useless words are choked in your ragged throat
I'm not the one to fix it, better see a doctor baby
The same endless rhythm strikes up again
your off-white gloved hand is outstretched, I cannot abstain
No, dancing the waltz with you has never been much fun
you lift me high only to drop me to the ground
spinning me at neck-break speeds, its too much to bear hun
I grow weary of having my toes stepped on, stop treading my gown!
It's a constant game of push and pull
we don't want to quit, yet nobody ever wins
your clothes are all stained, how can I trust you in full
still we stay here, dancing on needle pins
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is a poem of compromise. It seems to come out of an exhaustion or weariness with things as they stand. So the compromise is not a balance of competing issues which is satisfying to both parties, it's more like a truce, a provisional set up. There might be a degree of humor implied in the dance metaphor but it's not sufficent to rescue the speaker from her glum acceptance. There are no false promises offered, and the speaker's thoughts remain opaque. I feel for her. She deserves better.