The vessel i am travelling through,
challenges me to seek my real self.
though the reeds, the bushes,
and the briers are still.
none seems to be sparing here,
the sunlight gives me a jolly time.
is a pleasure.
the pale blue sky, the mud.
the pure blood.
whispers like something shrine from haven,
die another day, die another day,
die another day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem