Doors are opened,
But entry and exit
Are not so easy.
In the middle
What is happening
In cold and hot,
No one knows.
But in foliage
All stay.
Talks are not free,
And all collapse
Like the overbridge.
Be ready to go
Inwards with all,
Hills are there, though.
Direction is one
Persons are different,
Though at this time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem