Gladness rose to sprout like the fountain
That my spirit moved on the mountain,
With useful sensation I tender
To go charging like fire I render.
By confronting myself well to run
As charged with much energy, so run
All bestowed rich in me to deplete
The problem, for joy to be replete,
As my world will be of good flavour.
A world I can sincerely savour.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem