The food and drink of the gods,
Mortals who ate it became eternal odds
Whether one falls in by mistake,
By compel of enemy or comrade make
No affair differs in the outturn
Whether one is a devotee, by self-turn
Or induced, the resultant is delightful
availing the choice is more worth, rightful
then to withstand and regret
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem