I've owned this world of dirt and it has owned me
Broken bottles, a torn shirt, fading foam on the sea
I've had a wife of flesh and she owned me
At the end of a days thresh all I had was borrowed felicity
Interest paid on mediocrity, a sharecropper of death
We own nothing but hypocrisy, not even our own breath
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem