I’ve found no greater duty than sailing the shore,
A lovely warlike state of tour,
More of more I stay indoor now,
From ever asking joy is pleasant;
Joy is blatant, it soothed me for all of my life,
According to merry, merry men.
Joy has enjoyment on four corners of the square,
Bereaving is not my enemy on the evening of fear.
Inside the burden fought solidity, concrete help,
And still joyous activity enthralled me.
It destroyed me not. O it jostled me into peace.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem