EVERY SAMURAI'S PRIDE,
IT'R THE CARVED SHEATH'S BRIDE.
IT CUTS THROUGH FLESH & MATTER,
LIKE A HOT KNIFE THROUGH BUTTER.
IT HAS A LIFE OF IT'S OWN,
TO KILL IT IS ALWAYS PRONE.
NO ONE CAN MASTER IT FASTER,
IT'S NOT FASTER TO CHOOSE IT'S MASTER.
BUT WITH HARD WORK & DEDICATION,
A SAMURAI ACHIEVES PERFECTION.
IN THE WAR IT'S THE DEMON,
IT'S THE SAMURAI'S DEADLIEST WEAPON.
IT BATHES IN THE FLOOD,
OF THE DEAD BEINGS & THEIR BLOOD.
IT'S THE EXTENSION OF SAMURAI'S HAND,
WHO DESTROYS WITH HIS BAND.
IT CUTS THROUGH BAMBOO AND BANANA,
IT'S THE BEAUTIFUL, DEADLY KATANA.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem