I have them in my hand, defining words,
For the forces at work are deceitful,
Kings are mainly the real manners of society,
Queens instigate their authority on us.
The arms are flying towards the mast
Of a ship in comprehension,
Escaping the wordy invaders
Threatening the sloop and its crew.
The arms are frightening me, afterwards,
Legs shivered and jostled with people and things.
The beds are rolling like silver marbles,
And balls are following their talking philosophy.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem