Towards Him we recline during the season,
The next brings joy, like royal visitation.
One supposes a backyard is full of sounds,
Like the birds talking with each other
To be with a life of love and eternity,
So eternity knocks at the door of wealth.
Towards Him we fly and howl with sound,
Noises inhibit the welcoming, noise is worrisome,
So do not cry over worry lest
The sins of the fathers of evil men
Shine like locks, swaying to and fro,
With an action to mix with calamity.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem