Very nice items are like gold to manufacture from anything,
To common places they have travelled and ran,
Little do swamps fly and little do spirits lie vanished.
This grudge of the manufacturer mills the victuals,
These propelled monies are of the atomic structure
Like the molecular miles with summer and winter.
They could both feel the show as if the piety unmentionable,
Till the landowners tilt their hats to the atomic masses
Which prefer a majestic being to collect the concerns.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem