When you walk along a flight occurs after fighting
And wounding another animal, duty has you in the way.
These minor points of distinction remade you,
Jutting out are rocks of hard weight and shape.
Heaven is in the direction of your heart,
Leading to beautiful rocks so patterned in the sky
As far as the eye can see, as far as ever.
Your walking speed was immense, it used to be,
And always the flight came easy for you.
Never falter in your graceful practice,
That is to say, just fly beyond the hills and mountains
And land to see the army and government
Who are the authorities, who can see your flight.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem