There’s no turning back to the faith you live,
The strategy of right struts before the conclusive.
Your dying action provides blubber for the kill,
My country acts to stimulate so as to fill.
My faith alleviates suffering, forward and backward,
This anger exhibits flowers of hatred always awkward.
My love has armour, as the kingdom exists to the shut,
Please animals, do rid of the essentials that alternate.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem