Life has more than death and romance;
It stayed after two days and two nights
That reminded me of a weekend
In another country, another land,
It was another life.
Living with the foreigners
Is to like them and give love to them.
Love is another feature,
A foreign feature, and a teacher.
Lift the lover from his niche
And place him on the rostrum of hate.
Let him speak for all matters,
And keep him from romance.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem