The supreme victory is to subdue
pleasure. In truth there is reason,
be on guard or suffer the season.
The paradox of life, in the womb a
seed is free, yet is in chain in the
world from the cradle to the grave.
Great and true thoughts, Well expressed, We can, Admiratively, applaud.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You have a very command of the English language Haile. Well done! Another great poem!