I am on a chase
In the names of your oddity;
Retort the armies of pleasure,
A service has eliminated me.
To stop and be short is exact,
Be the sergeant, be the word
That bites other men, those
Who stimulate your intellect
In the face of war.
A plan needs a solver
Or the plans begin in a short time.
May quick plans be relentless
On the enemy,
On the fools and stupidity,
On each offensive they have laid.
I cry audibly so as to surrender
To this fight in my head.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem