To get real and being real are different,
One vixen is another fox, which stir
In reality itself, as they approach you
To test and command with naughty food.
I pick on its genius as it nears the far away place,
A lamb beholds it with concerts and songs,
Feeling its whiskers with weird response,
For the lambs know nothing according to the gospel.
But indeed innocence is really protected,
For the shepherd nears the field and blesses
The way of solid genius, a lamb is with a fox,
A lamb is bleeding near us, but the fox is dazzled.
I pick on its intelligence, feeling the purse,
And emotions run in different directions,
A fox seems too far away now that the shepherd
Has overwhelmed an animal of action and arson.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem