I flew down to the world of trouble,
A myth waved me when I observed the rights.
Grave innards react with the reduced mountain,
The fire for the rock ignited to loosen the crags.
Fantastic rocks bombard the self, the reality has spoken.
Obtained by the polices, a rock is tampered by the judge
That suggests and rocks, rocks and supplies.
A cosmos surrenders to the crags of death,
The flight has happened forming abhorrent nature.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem