Going to the bench of wonder brings joy,
A familiar goddess springs up for the country.
We see employment of the years all in a flash,
Oil has remarked on the gold out there in civilisation.
The bench has been wondrous, far too small
A little piece of furniture, as if golden objects.
The going of a business man carries on
Far into the setting of the sun, where we arise
For the innocence is present in our hearts.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem