To trivially plod through the snow
I carry on with the mud, the appalling fitness
Is against me, as I submerge my feet in the cold.
It is rainy now, too dangerous, and my stiff nose
Goes oil and gas, goes triumph and defeat,
Many shall win as many degrade it,
Triumphant music is in the eerie silence.
My music magically converts mistakes into successes,
Taking the snow, also contriving the footprints
As design is proper in a land like this one snowy plain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem