This light were much the duller
Embellishment by far
Set not against, antipathetic
Of what seemingly mar;
For those shadings, tree-blown
In the moody storm-thrown.
In one, who is pretending
To be perfect always
A smirk, a sour-faced contrast
Could enliven my days!
Refreshing, if fearsome walked!
And if finally balked!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem