Do not mean to me with my blade,
Confusing and skilled is the request.
Nothing like roads, the daggers shift
With their curved edges and skills to carve.
The moment it is pulled apart
The steel weapon pierces the heart
So wholesome and weathered
That gorgeous glances afford.
To efforts we shift the neck,
Nights of use shall beget blocks of stone.
Do not be mean to my building
Of blind work, the very same work has occurred.
He was sniffing hungrily (whole fruits disappoint me) ,
As he was licking and smelling the staff.
This dog of a house bellows steam at me,
With no connivance of intelligence,
Just barks were heard from afar.
This blade may lick me
Halving the complete river
With the absorption by the sun.