The scorching heat,
In her bosom,
Gives rise to,
Her growing evil child.
It rises,
It falls,
She controls,
It fades.
Waves crushed,
And it also softens,
Into a calm,
And peaceful paradise.
The child turns good,
According to His teaching,
She grows,
And he’s changed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem