These days I find that I've much to say to, and share
With, certain people. Yet I have very little
To say to, and share with, most people. Too much wear
And tear over the years has made me quite brittle.
Consequently, I consider it a great curse
To waste my precious time and energy on those
Who are not worthy of me. I'll stick with my verse
Instead and compose odes and watch sweet flowers grow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem