I am a big-hearted man of classic
Clumsiness, in the end it matters.
My clean and carefree living
Closes the clutter of the aliens.
The damaged decimals invade my
Happiness, cleverly aligning my prayer.
It is compassionate of the soul,
The big-hearted man is me and soul.
I have a heart of clear bliss,
Cloudy like the heavenly clouds.
Blaring heat connives the colourless
Rain, in this deep comfort we see.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem