Turning and toiling on the evening grapes
I saw the wind dusting by and it urge so unique and chill
I saw the laughter amidst the terror from Barfanater running down my lips
How may I embrace this task ahead?
To see not to look for look at Luke is Luke but the torment of pataki.
And I smile at my shadow when I gallop up the tune of greatness.I wave in dispair amidst the flag of leadership on my roof ablow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem