My sword shares the life I'm having;
Every strike is precious progress,
Ev'ry moment my blade's singing
A warrior's hymn to the goddess.
The blade, the soul that is brilliant,
Craftily moulded elegance
Imbued with legends so valiant,
In battle, it grooms a fragrance.
In solitude, one has seized breath.
Dulling strength ‘nd honor one seeks
Undoubtedly leading to death
That shame, pride, and arrogance wreaks.
Move with more than a thousand feet,
Together, be in right knowledge-
The Sun and the Stars you shall greet,
And to the ancient masters, pledge.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem