To be routes of calibre
Is of the frightening part,
To be desires of the heart
Can be replicas for you,
This heraldry deserves justice
As justice is my sister
With families all around us.
To be the road to slavery
We must define the states
Of the heart and its soul.
Then the lords of just health
Overwhelm the seas with heat
That works words of hearts;
We must be picking berries.
The heart has dissolved in mighty
Dreams, gritty in their visions
Like the imagination of man,
And the fairness of woman;
The professional soldier
Worked arduously in the toils
Of war that is in the heart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem