My sad heart whines for the tiny blood
And the tiny mind of the wearer,
Comfort enters the fold and delivers,
When do peaceful signs excite you?
The yard of hatred is to be fought with love
As the garden of strife is upon us.
Awe enters the mind with force and engagement,
Love is the empty head and the empty heart
For all our thunderous remorse.
May the plump heart be an awakened part,
Full of energy that resides in the brain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem