The emblem of a fruit takes on cures,
Making me happy as a doctor of skill and precision.
Learned and skilful, pressing on my shoulders,
The other doctor vanishes then returns to diagnose
And treat with goodness and delight.
I am the man of the hospital, the man of right,
Forgiving others like the old women and children.
Deciding the treatment I laugh and loudly,
The leaf of burden collapses tonight.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem