To discover the path that is straightest,
Look at the deliberate verses sacred and clear;
What do they say when heat is added to stares
From constructive peoples, from civilised seas of grass?
To discover the middle way is a war of pleasure,
Behold the world in its finery and count each blessing;
Sources of deceit are ripened when tests are delivered,
So see which to orient and display for all to please.
To discover the flag of contentment is to deceive nobody,
As accusations fly from the face at veins of colour;
He who knows the dead of the graveyards is procured
And his bed is stolen from the mists and creations.
I have discovered new kingdoms in the atomic landscape,
The resonant warrior carries his crown and torso;
Why do we weep when he dies and goes to sleep in alertness?
Where is the soul when decisions are made from the grand helper?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem