They gave me empty vases so that if my fame that,
Readily approaches from the distant climes like a maze,
To make my dreams plenty beyond the size and cares,
Of your empty brains, Sleepless nights I give them still,
My memory, recalls every tragedy like uncertain fables,
I tire them with my reading skills as well as my ready dreams,
with my strange fraternal and mystical charms,
I remain as hung from their haughty heads and hearts,
I will curse he who comes from any deep abyss,
Even from the highest of the sky, nothing, except me, cursed!
And you who, like a deep shadow with an ephemeral trace,
Will come in a trance, while I brace myself the frank talk,
The proud of the crowd with a lighted foot and serene look,
Like stupid mortals in brainless soothe judged myself bitter,
But like the statue in the market square, my bright eyes looked,
On straight, my strong head held higher, yet they shiver
at the brazen form, strangely there on my forehead.
Sincerely @izge .