Ah, my soiled words
may hurt you. I placed them on
the altar of faith.
A psalm delivered by
a crimson red rose. I will write
another sacred poem.
The torches are dead
and I cannot read the script of
unwritten dharma of god.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
By geat expectation all live life to achieve laurels soon!