The grand rocs are shadow flies.
A dinner is grand massive doors.
The massive doors set up lives.
To gibe are jeeps on paper dooms.
Smokes are sinking with stick to burn.
Metaphors are smiles but analogies are laws.
Each is beings and all are that could.
Weapons are phoenix but powers stand.
Play and point your lives on wars.
We flipped the ashes out of dust.
Obey cheerfully when all are asked.
Command wisely when lives are urged.
Whales are couch and tigers are paws.
Beds of roses are thrones with throngs.
Gross powers have profits margins.
Sales are bodies when clouds are formed.
-Cheung Shun Sang=Cauchy3-
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem