Out of the broad leaves floating on the surface
the lotus emerges in all its glory with a double face
like a carpet spread neatly occupies the entire netted frame
looking g from above the vine spies secretly to watch the game
each lotus position is like an organized team to run the football
awaits the referee's whistle when an injured player fall
around the stadium the silver moon shines for them to have light
with the music of the wind they continue to move from the site
soon the game will close when the sunlight opens its door
and all the players will return to the darkness once more
to celebrate the championship with champagne and wine
above the sponsors will spread the news of victory on the vine
a world where demons will fail to enter the battleground
to awaken from a beautiful dream unfound
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem