Farewell To Modern Poets
Spent my muse: half but a dreg, 
Bankrupt it goes, soon to lend: 
Perhaps, suppliers will lend. 
Head aches, wit remonstrates, 
Hand grunts; seeks to escape
But heart still imitate. 
Said we have a talk: 
We, all ancient poets: 
Shakespeare (damn him!)Calls. 
 Josh Berry 
 18: 08: 07: 11: 23                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem