When I heard I am a washed basil leaf,
A good for nothing from a rotten soul,
I knelt on my knee to beg mercy from Him,
For the blue tongued devil.
When soul cries and can not shed tear,
Prayer works to raise the lost spirit.
I do not know from which galaxy
He came to try to make me weep.
But, every time he and her female friend
weave plot to defame me,
I must pray to enlighten their souls.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem