Your barely old and unsteady man has work to do,
A snake feels more to do with four fiery demons,
More powerful sweeping actions are those deeds
We seem to neglect on the move and in combat.
I want to glance when you are ready, all through
The season of luck, one boasts of this luck.
They see the forces still roaming and enjoying
Their lunch as the glass has shattered.
You stare and mind one boy who is mindful of you,
Most of the wall is in some bleeding condition.
In our search for the true nature of the forces
Sweeping the very odd glass city,
We encounter the darkness and delve deeply
To resolve the crisis.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem