With a face unopened, a joke appeared,
Taking chances, gathering them, like occupations,
And then laughter came as money,
A shrill whistle shook the head.
Hearing wishes pleased the face,
They meant no harm to the gatherer,
Half an hour passed with smiles and laughter,
But most folk strangely disbelieved.
Faces are our wishes, when genius arrives
As the winter passes and the night unfurls,
This winter carries a splendour like summer
For the noses and eyes work like ears.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem