POEMIt is only in poetry that we are thrilled,
Only in verses do we fall in love,
We both cling to the rope,
But only one of us broke.
In the story of others we are just happy,
In their mouths we are like one another,
Our story is really beautiful,
Mixture of lie and fantasy.
Only in novels are we perfect,
Wrapped in gilded -like lines,
The two playwrights have a secret,
In every ad, both are dying.
Only in the picture can the color of this world be seen,
It is not the artist's view that we are pious-
In fact it will no longer be formed-
The memories are fragmented.
Only in music do we find joy,
Dirty music is covered with applause,
In false pleasure we are like flowers,
But our fears are contradictory.
We just smile under the rain,
The lamentations of the past have also been able to put aside,
We both fall in love with the pain it brings-
Towards something that no longer throbs in our moments.
Just in the title we lingered,
In just loving words,
Used sugar has no sweetness,
Past love has had a poultice.
There is nothing stuck between the sun and the moon,
But holding the rope was found the hanger,
And behind the sweet works of the squeezed-
Its true coolness is hidden.
They still don't pay attention to what really happened to us,
Because it is not visible to the eyes as if they were blindfolded-
That on the bridges we are no longer thrilled,
In the verses it is no longer possible to love,
We both cling to the rope-
But we let go together, after being broken.
~ I don't know if the translation of the word is correct. But thank you for reading.❤️