Golden sun golden joy,
kissing the winds,
through the mouth of the drum,
on mountain made of fearless lions,
healing the vortex, healing the neck,
flying feeling caught by the hawk,
then dropped and eaten by the tiger,
the lion king is awakened,
weaving the beauty of crystal,
weaving the galaxy into the heart of Terra.
Novas' golden sun has risen,
A party of joy has begun,
Soul light,
soul fire.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem