Fortune hides a fortune of gold and silver,
The very same silver commanding, friendlier;
Frost demands of the gold some ancient health
And power, the very commands have wealth.
Ice is an unique trumpet of gold,
Golden men are carriers of the old.
May God fold in the ingredients of a soup,
One made of pennies of fluid and in a group.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem