Down the alleys the rain has run faster than a horse,
This horse neighs like the stranger of the mists;
My toes seal a victory for the forces of the old wizard
Reinforce my shot, illegal shots are illegal!
This running around forests combines my madness
With alacrity of the higher standards.
The wizards busily request for the ideal weight,
As their wands master the pencils of the wind.
One writer enters the field of writing to be scribes
And sages of late.
The minute spell instils hatred and love of the higher
Sort.
The seas of evil are wells of the entire empire,
Fully embedded in the jewels of the late sorcerer.
Let the sorcery desist, and let the orders of the wind
Be again!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem