It pains me not to laugh at pain
Or cry in sight of radiant joy,
What is right or wrong with this?
Doesn't life's treachery, buoy, well
In any ground swell or surge tide.
In its balance the blood bays
For forgiveness like a loyal dog,
Neither master's lap. nor kinship.
Its ministering instinct: is for its own.
Mercurial lost existence…
What is right or wrong with this?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem