In the mind flashing in the dream,
with the breaking of all the broken shadow.
expectations of the time,
midst of burnt Love Light,
O lost heart, walk alone;
see the dream the blue lily in sweet corpus.
The flute was worried that I listen -
The natural silent death under life;
here time seems golden -
Cookbook of the blue direction,
split second to lose sight of the mind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem