Smoke lifted its head along the boundary,
Past experience was of the fiery hell or jest.
This fire of the night ignited from youth,
A place for fire was a place for joyous quiet.
Then the talents of a day were spending on lunch,
Opening the festivals of a honesty so sent to us.
The food of the hole was ploughed in the world,
Gadgetry was a simple weapon on the fireplace.
And then a joyous spread of fat entered the weapon,
Kicking and picking with flames of yellow and gold;
This fire of the world was an expensive joke
Sent to authorities and restaurants in the eerie atmosphere.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem