My living nightmare has come true,
Open the doors to mercy, as I do beg.
My living dream of mercy has arrived,
The inner work of the devil is about.
May we climb the mountain of trust,
Foreign inhabitants can be any;
The language is a tower too tall,
My mountain is one of wrong and truth.
The nights belaboured created me,
To be this my profession is sound;
Let the island of the people be here,
Then surging water shall engulf us.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem