For the various reasons we provide the angels,
There are none compared to mankind and men.
For those who interfere there are winks and whistles
To entertain the castles of our fathers and saints.
We devil with the atrocities, this side of the sky,
But where is a sea when opposed by land and air?
I possess the professors, the innocent mailmen of
Letters flying forward in direction of the soldiers.
I see their lessons as broad papers and winter warmth,
Opening their trains of thought so possible and polite.
My hold on the boot is an angelic movement offering us
A chance to dissolve in the snowy mountains of the sky.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem