Benevolence, a barefoot woman with long hair,
dancing lonely on the crest of the universe.
Her twirling stirs a gust of wind
spinning around her.
Melancholy souls
drawn into the swirling wind
begin to move their feet;
and then
more are drawn into the dance -
more and more spinning,
collecting more souls
into the dance of benevolence -
the dance began by a single woman
disregarding the contempt of the warmongers.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem