I stand here
Before you
Undressed, nude and stark
Like unclothed sun
My race of life's finally done.
My bag is bursting of deeds
A mixture of good and bad seeds
Like seasons of our time
And my life was not mine.
Your love is as kind as a pocket
That does welcome any heart
The owner's or pilferer's arm
With one benevolent aim.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
love, benevolent aim, good life all we need, right