The reason behind madness is solid and plain,
One feels like the prisoner in his own lane;
I seek the path befitting to the sane and lonely,
Feeding the poor should defend them only.
This period of distaste creates disorder and sin,
I have to sense the person inside to even begin,
I have to see the person as if he springs,
His legs are always the hoop that brings.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem