One star divides due to a godly dispute
Yesterday, when today the feelings are lame,
Long hair devises a cure for the nightingale
As it visits your window and door every day.
Once the star seems like the clock,
My act is adage, a little family name,
To be out-rooted due to the history and being.
My half of the pure appearance is soundness,
Sincerity comes in next with zeal and enormity.
The half of my career cleaves and is sought after,
It reduces its core, swells like inflammatory organs.
One star has a destination of the right order,
Flags, so, are outrightly majestic in the wind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem