It's pain not to write-
I'm blooming, let me be
To fight my own fight
How clever, to be
Always right;
Or else, fit to be tied
In the pale moonlight
Ties come unbound
When you're on the ground:
In some full moon, I'll drown
Write the pain blooming,
It's not always me-
I'm my own clever fight
How right, to be pale
Under tied moonlight,
Unbound, unbind
Drowned, when you're full:
Moon on the ground
Drown moon, full in
Grounded, unbound
And moonlight pale
Tied in fits
Always right;
Though too clever, to fight
Fight I? fight me? and how
Let me be, let me bloom
Write no pain
Ground by moon
Full, when you're drowned
Unbind, unbound
Moonlight tied under
Pale be to right
How clever, to fight
On my own, always
Or if I'm not me:
When it blooms,
Pain writes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Obviously when moonlight has stricken the chord inside your genius mind..