To merry friends; be it true
will be friends, under the faith
in spirit, letter to your days,
not else where differ, uniform to breath..
Hail, promises before the sun we made
to seek, worth, due world transitory
in world made our land to heaven
of choices filled; noble spirit of well-wishers
Be it, somewhere, diverged in ice
Yet resolved, render steps in frozen calm
dip of heaven; no one red-eyed our growth too
raid-in smile, before we back to pavilion...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem