A receptacle is handed down to peace,
For the liquid consumed itself;
For a recluse, he handles peace,
And for a student his war rages on.
Reckless panicky men are like substances,
This recitation inverts the brain’s signals.
I can not hand down peace quite the same,
For our recluse inhibits the contests
As much as competitions allow.
Let him waste the receptacle now.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem