Freedom from dirt is of washing up,
Spreading the tablecloth and being fine.
Use the handkerchief on the people who work,
A tainted one shall require us to laugh aloud.
It is not one hundred percent, not entire,
To jostle and abhor the freedmen.
We are polished from good soap,
Snowy and sought by men and women.
This place is dewy and fresher than most,
As much as a daisy, and no longer a creature.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem