O Santa Claus, will you come my home?
My home; not in New York, Berlin, Paris or in Rome;
It is at some unknown place of desert
Where comes occasional fighter expert;
Flying swiftly how daring the fighter fights
Scattering flowers of 'deathbed' at mid-nights.
O Santa Claus, will you come my home?
The Lamb is crying hungry there alone!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem