Falsehood hated the solving mind,
Lines of glory have been written
Due to aches and pains of the collision
That compels us to wrong and turn over the head
Into sleep, so fortunate that we detest it.
False boars of indulgence scare us and hate
For we grind the doors of the mind on hate
As hatred itself.
It must destroy us, hatred is to destroy me
And the residents we occupy with our houses.
Castles and doors to these large monuments
Will be peaceful now that falsehood is again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem