Half a slide in the circle
Thirty-six of them
From mine to goldmine
From soil to sickle
A Maybach girl
The crescent of the moon
I won't leave that fruit out
And get a clearance
Knock the community of
Come down, go up
A sign to the valley
Stand alone, stand together
Think of it as it would be better
Don't fear something to carry
As you earn the spot
A slim, native jade
Can't carry the moment
A relative story to pull
What does it do?
And bind it up to the shy
Because you believe
An arcade stadium
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem