In the darkness we threw the dice towards the empty field
And were elated after it's obliged delving to the lap
But knew not how it roved simultaneous in unseen pasture
Nor tried to amplify it's motion ingenerated at dangling supper,
Thereafter played tantrums for distilling the misgivings improper
Which still jumped out between the fingers to frolic in ember
Before redrawing the universe upon the linen with complete moon,
Hardly we bothered to count their abstracts upon the table cover
As the motion of dice prevailed over our strange estimation
Endured till to the next supper for contemplation larger.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem