You must understand the mood of real results,
Beneath them the message is late,
Underneath them we claim a bereavement
And grief is the boat we see on a lake.
I shoot you with a lovely arrow,
Offered also by the worshippers;
It may be prayer, but not a layer
Of blood is found with the message.
Your comprehension is such a wonderful intake
Of laudable knowledge, the knowledge of you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem