Cumbersome,
Walking around;
Facing the world,
With the works of the terror everywhere.
Books! !
With the willows of the brook;
Come in as you will and,
Let me satisfy my mind with the works of peace.
Coach, approach!
With the reproach of the world;
Imcomparable with the works of the truth,
Because of the wicked ones among us.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem