Truly barbed axes could strike
No virtue could quell
Ghastly prowess o' fuming goDs
Careless thought incurs
Images wrought beyond
My guileless sin defers
Less than little
My nil to none...
I'm a goat herder
Who pets sheep
If the wool
Is dirty but
I wash my hands
First but only once
A long time ago
But sorry
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem