To describe a plain hamlet is to be in pain
From this coastland and trade, governing the sweet
Hills, always asking your pride.
To describe, we meet each other as artists,
Speaking their tongue is a challenge,
The opposite of offerings has changed,
Concentrate so as to obviously usurp
The leader or keeper.
The overlord expensively overlaid a button,
These buttons collected in their progeny,
Their progeny is bleating, like lambs
So well with their health that sobbing
Has occurred, they almost mimic us in their
Splendid joy of oil that swims too fast.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem