The blue, blue sky shines too loudly,
A springing canopy, a snapping jest.
Farewell stars of the rotten flesh!
Mingling with people of right and wrong
Is like the creation of justice.
Feel your sky when stars are called
Bolder than the stewards who travel.
Still my dear weather is sweet,
Sweeter than the bolder work,
Does it fester like a wound of audacity?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem