Open a hand to the level of mine,
Exert it fully like the created line.
Bestow your liking for them,
And anger must never damn.
Hold my hands as of now,
And never let go of us, just bow.
My salute is finer like a general -
Of life and special and of real.
Extend the greeting from the bed of your heart
As a heart beats on and on and on.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem