Hearken to the reed-flute, how it complains,
Lamenting its banishment from its home:
'Ever since they tore me from my osier bed,
My plaintive notes have moved men and women to tears.
I burst my breast, striving to give vent to sighs,
And to express the pangs of my yearning for my home.
He who abides far away from his home
Is ever longing for the day he shall return.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem