Words are dangerous when won,
Their meanings prevail beyond the desire;
But these words entail the loss of people.
The old men are the old generation,
Wordy men of loose emblems and desires.
Their overcoats combine with pleasure
And hats are trim, hats pass their tests.
Word after word tap on the heads and hearts
With overcrowding, overwhelming hallways.
They are tails, this is the world of words,
The loss of people is a wonderful dispute.
But bring the imagination to the backwaters,
Brightly blow your words at the wind passing,
For passing tests is the most successful man.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem