Love may say farewell, to the believers of religion,
To the few who ride on the buses, and have distinction.
Love is a plant of zeal, growing in a heavenly patch of grass,
The very hunting of this plant is beautiful like a class.
You certainly learn from anger, as levels of pain
Will deliver the game of life, the very one to abstain.
Love causes us to think in terms of religion
And the employment requires deactivation.
May you adore a flower in a grass patch
Like the worries we suffer and catch.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem