Not in a hundred days do we turn away,
This is the decision of my doorway;
The archangels keep angles and light,
Gorgeous humans must be tighter with backbite.
The blooming flowers are flooding the fields,
Let them enter the domains of the yields.
I am reasoning, I give facts of a bright future
That rewards our efforts towards the agriculture.
Some of the arrows that fly are biting me,
Those of us who resent us are of anatomy.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Some of the arrows that fly are biting me, killing line on concluding very hard thank you