The land - fertile,
Fertile land and
We are ready to do
What is good.
We have our
Own heavenly air,
We have our star.
We have an artful life,
With the sky,
And we fly.
Think not we are strengthless,
Think not we are sigh,
We have our own voice,
We have our own choice.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem