”The fire of the life isn’t enough.…”

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The fire of the life isn’t enough for my word.

It’s like a balm cricket in summer in my word.

The fire of the thought that it cries shaves the life, even and isn’t enough.

But whoever will put out its fire.

You can get this from a bird of the fire by which its fire won’t go out, and it’s done.

No one can put out the fire of its life.

To say that there is no life in a word.

Say that there is no life through which I live.

That doesn’t know whether they seem to kill

The one of the word which is I in something I don’t try to understand

In the one which judges that the fire isn’t seen by the same appearance

My feelings can be put out, and please wind.

My feelings are played and it’s put out.

Because it’s different from the fire of the match.

”Poet - moderns…”

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