And what is a whole
That I know not
And I roll back.
The message I receive
Is incomplete one
And still, I proceeded.
The air is hungry,
Told me on the way.
I construct a story,
Then and there for
The pleasure of the water.
But the men, who are wounded
Showed their untold happiness,
And I feel the spring.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem