I have joy when loves are forsaken,
They are likes now that make the enjoyment.
The joys are numerous, to prefer a pleasure
Is to abstain from wrong, the wrong of danger
And the jeopardy existing in the vicinity.
Pleasure transforms into ecstasy,
Only when joys are eccentrically strong
And have stimulation, stronger pushes after the floods
That occupy our friendship.
The joyous friends fed our minds
And forsook the danger, the jeopardy, and the injury.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem