There was a Poet whose only Reading was Poetry
Whose only work was Poetry
Whose only rest was Poetry-
There was a Poet whose only Life was Poetry
Who gave everything he had only to it-
This Poet totally lost in Poetry
Misunderstood totally the meaning of Poetry,
And so gave himself and everything he had
To the endless vanity of preventing his own inevitable extinction.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem