The garden of love is not a garden of disease;
The garden of heaven is not the lawn of hell.
We confine the brilliant and imprison the blamed,
Both topics are discussed by the future president.
We see the woman as an agent of the people,
We've interrogated the men of understanding well enough.
Its fresh atmosphere congratulates the soul and heart,
The paradise belongs to me after the righteous soul.
We shall live with each other in harmony of harmony,
Music is forgotten, art is never restored, but beauty is gaping.
The forms of our person consider the mightiness of a being
Or deity, it is His Will that is to be done according to wish and custom.
When the garden has delighted us, where the people have reposed,
We shall never mock the brilliant who are confined, nor the blamed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem