Awful folly,
I was smuggled through the red sea!
On the night of the great deliverance,
But many have eyes and they can still not see.
Frantically speaking,
My name is Tema;
But the colour of my love speaks by itself.
Love is like the movement of the sun and the moon,
But the sparrows are twittering and the doves are cooing;
For i was smuggled through the Red Sea to meet your love,
And like the wind of your muse that led me on.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem