I burn a magical candle,
Where there is no light of lamp,
I see an ancient book,
When there is no history of son,
My frog prince does not crackle beneath a tree of pond,
For his stardom flops and he has gone somewhere,
I never saw him again,
I have a magical stick,
But its magic is lost somewhere in the palace,
I don't know the reason of golden horse,
It's also ran away in the flop war,
I called many strong warriors,
They were also not the true fighter,
In my view there is no world like magic,
For magic becomes line for magician.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem