Do not ask
Now listen
Short; simple
I'm writing clear
I'd rather bow to horse
But not you
I'm humbled
By that dog
Not by you
I adore
Small ant
Never you
I love knife
When alone
And with you
I can cut one throat
Mine's better
Filthy; yours,
My blood will then write
On floor, on the wall:
"Read me now
You to me
Is disease
I must leave to get rid
Out of two one can live
Day or night
One must go
If not you
I will go
Believe that
I swear
Better dead
If pride is cobble
To your road
If honor, dignity
Turn to wrung in ladder
For bastards to walk on
Best be gone."
Do not ask: "Where or how? "
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem