Reminiscence, like a rose flower
In a bravura vase of the mind;
Like the incessant rain splattering
In the night, on the tin roof, of the soul;
The vanishing mist, and the night, who
Vanquished a beautiful opulent evening;
The air wafting in a soft melody in the distance
In negligence, passing above me.
It dawns on me, that everyone is wearing a mask,
Smiling and charming, radiating kindness
From the eyes, and with soft voices.
A facade to dupe his neighbor,
A make-belief, to appear as saints.
I discern, the painted veil peeling off
From their masks, and see demons there.
Vixens with avarice and lust, preying!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem