Not for me, to take offence
The lips curled at some pretence,
My path forward is straight and true
No time to analyse you;
How rigid that mind is set
To sample others with regret,
Time wasted that could be spent
To more positive thoughts be lent;
What exquisite finery, so deftly woven
Cannot be unravelled and disproven,
And far from wrapping, fully-clothed
Left naked, and to the truth betrothed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Sort of a philosophical write. Very nice.