In the meditation room, a top man sways,
His thoughts relayed throughout the galaxy;
Delighted in some swaying piracy,
Innocently the sentence unwinds to see rivers.
In the meditated hour, it begins to suggest a controversy,
For a man resolutely abandons his task.
Underneath the sea is a bed of iron,
Steel has been thought as a hard strain,
Toughness is assault, a ready session of hate.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem