Finding myself impaled upon its horns,
my fingers bleed in vain these words.
A hand rejoices, another mourns
for what pain, what joy this choice affords!
No emotion can bear what it seems to appear
and yet the whole world knows;
My dilemma... it is not written here.
And yet, the whole world knows.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem