Hatred makes heart melt
Especially from a close dear
It makes hands feeble
And the spirit often faint
All knee weak as water
An angry soul a sword sharpened and
Also furbished
It is sharpened for a sore slaughter
It is furbished that it may glitter
Faster to destruction
It is a terror in the hand of a thoughtless man
Thou art skillful to destroy,
You shall be a fuel to the fire.
Thy blood in the midst of the land;
Thou shall no more be remembered.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem