I see the rights of this individual,
Making me crazed beyond other limits,
The banquets are the insightful,
The reading carries only autopilots.
The blankets are abbots of the arrows,
Defending me, like the abbey today;
The sign on this defeat is my bedclothes,
Bouquets are dangers in very array.
The ashtray is away from bravery,
Some banjos have walls to make them anew,
The ashtray made me dirty ably,
Some offered me the height of the bamboo.
I see new worries in this heart of mine,
To care is too much on the borderline.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem