Animals of the sun and moon live and arrive,
Their dying is the quality of a strange lord.
Admired and loved by some, hated by others,
These deaths are not goals for eternity.
The real beast within shines a relic of stains,
The hearts fold and collapse upon expiration.
The laws of the natural grounds are disobeyed
And obeyed. Like love, is there strangeness?
The acts of nature combine so well,
Their creative talents are overwhelming.
The whole season shall mention our calamity
After a knowing man who seeks the peace of nature.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem