hardheaded, and enraged
to the makings of his own
misfortune, created by him
alone, but always blaming
another, the world and
others that care for him,
he worsens the condition,
he asks for the verdict of
death, and he seems to
imply, that those who wish
him alive will feel that he is
such a kind of wasted value
and they would soon feel
guilty and finally unhappy.
he's wrong, behind his back
he wants him dead, exactly.
soon when he is buried,
the will toast for a drink.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem