What lies in-between the hills
Determines what shares your wills
How you can survive brings your being
What you believe or adore in a song
Will create a way to a day that is long
In fact, long gone is the skin of a church
You pray day and night, you tempt to search
No matter how tiring anything is, you charge
Whatever goes around your mind, you tend to die
You may like to open a gate to which you fly
Something always stops your breath
Something usually gets stuck in your health
Something turns into a melody
Something loses its very beauty
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem