The old man stares at the moonlit sky in amazement,
He thinks many great things about it in his pleasant realm,
After a while he writes everything in a perfect way,
Eventually it becomes a wonderful story of the great world,
The old man reads it many times and smiles with great delight,
Then he falls asleep forever,
The moon becomes brighter and brighter in the vast sky.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Yes sir writings do become in this way. They live even when one is gone. Beautiful poetic expression. Thank-you. Vm.