My brother is on my flank,
He turns to me like a disciple;
I saw his soul with my soul,
And I understand him more everyday.
The names on the scroll happen to be
The same words for the same deeds
That we encourage in the world,
Cheering us on, please give thanks.
We are brethren going south,
Not north or east or west,
But down the map, in a direction
So important for our stay on this world.
We will stray and reconsider,
We are never blind nor dumb,
Our nature of authority is high,
Boasting is not of us.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem