I forsake the pleasures inside this island,
Catching foes and pigeons for my friends
Who lurk in the caves for the rest of their lives,
But why do they listen to the waters and streams?
The birds of the varieties we have on earth
All fly like our souls to exist and breathe in ways
Known to God, and the reality shall be never missed,
But why do we hear their calls in this wilderness?
Going too strongly in the lane of flight,
Readies the mind with afflictions, godly ones,
Ones that pile and deter, to rectify the mistake,
But where are all the flowers of the ancient men?
I forgot your lovely breath on this day I had entered,
The island of the queens and kings
Masters my long struggle, the strangled man
I am.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem