My opening of the doors created folly,
Abhor those who sit and wait, with ice.
The life of plenty condemns nobody,
Letting fences be built for the gardens.
Return to the grass, if a straight course
Means a pathway to the enemy.
Buildings of bricks and mortar
Shall make offerings to Nature.
My opening of the door to Nature
Is like that of the entrance to Time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem