The religious path winds in a precious way.
On it a simple gear has been proud.
If everyone masters the joys of attributes
We coast around like a shark for the waters
Of hard habits and harder prestige.
The path we endure shall be as it is in water,
O distant penguin of the snow, when do you
Seek the hermits who are me and me alone?
I have much religious wisdom to be in
Neither zoo
Nor impenetrable jungle.
If you are so perfect, be this custom
So honoured by humans, and so stale
For the beasts who procure us.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem