The air of two men is alight,
The fire surrounds them and fights,
What do we gain from this?
It stings and shudders our blood,
The fire retires and is stolen,
Fierce winds dissolve its anger,
Minds attached always collect information.
The air of two men is afire,
The clothes possessed are an attack.
Two men are on fire, two men will bear
The time so rare, and the fierce winds collect
And more collect, to dissolve the hurt.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem