When we stand on the parapet,
Layered with beautiful love carpet,
To take us to the next cohort,
To create the pearls by spilling of gold dust,
We stand still, nothing exist anywhere,
The world is covered with the mystic shroud,
Nothing is seen or observed or bothered,
When we are alone on the magic carpet,
The healthy stars shine as sons of wizard,
Most wealthy have been weakened through habits,
The healthy can survive at any climate,
The moment we stand on the dream resort.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Healthy survive not the wealthy. Beautiful poem. Thank you.