She sits on her throne of mah jongg tiles
and passes judgment on you and me
She's got 13 orphans on a rack
and tortures them relentlessly
She tortures them relentlessly
She'll make you pass through nine gates
with prevailing winds and guardians
where you'll feel discarded
really discarded
where a dragon's concealed
and love
is hate
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem