The guilt-free kindness of a soldier
Is inoffensive and complete for the forces;
My upright one charges his carriage at
The lone warriors of purity and kindness,
Erasing the hidden forces within,
Eroding the fallen comrades
So divine and blessed in their entirety.
The iceberg of kindness becomes stale with ice,
A soldier respectably corrodes the heights of it,
Refreshing himself for the fixed one,
It had no effect,
It became superstition,
And would you like freezing like him?
Would the voice of a covered one
Be artistic enough in expression?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem