The kiss of a stone is purity,
Its illness has knowledge;
One ant strives for its sake,
Feeding its feelings for you.
The knowledge has become a man,
A man is not a woman or animal,
Nor an insect, nor a vegetable of green
Status standing further than the rain.
The kiss of a stone is abrupt,
Feeding a frantic mode to words,
One of us is dissolved in pity
As the purity commends itself.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem