The less is the best,
As of now the least.
I ask for an argument,
And a day of rest.
I price the pages on the intellect,
And further my stay is let.
My feathers will furnish your strength,
As of now, the length of my life is death.
The most of the sweetness is found in the eyes,
The beheld scene has become strange lies.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem