Doctors are in the sky,
The sky is in the long lane we catch;
A thrust in the street of heaven
Calls the medically trained individual.
In the sky is a blind man called the constellation
Young and happy, feeling and brave,
On the promises of the future.
Brave and lovely is the gargantuan skull
Of the river, a ray of hope,
The lover of water, the living of lanterns,
Thus, it picked up more tears and felt grand
As the ocean it came from.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem