Your captain is your soldier of joy,
His description is like farming,
Any one of you live with him,
As your father occupied him,
As your mother welcomed himself.
And then money is straightened afterwards
To a concrete plan, and fetching water
Is again futile, in the well of shame,
Against the fire some water
That has shadows and play of a life.
Soldiers are welcome to change,
After their commanders fill the lane of difference.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem