Thwarting those returning from stoppages,
The people of the Earth rely on thrusts.
There are black skies and blue lands,
Bitter tasks, fulsome tasks, and wonderful hills.
Return from the stoppers and carry on your task,
Do not be vanquished, heated and alone.
Sanity is freedom forming us into the religion we know
And love the best. Courtesy is to the countryside.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem