Golden bird,
Have you not seen?
Oh, it is there!
It is poetry, dear,
Go not prosaic.
Understand the desert,
Take care.
For you Only
Dear men,
On this earth
Here I walk.
My heart is there
And it is opened
Like the sky
No clouds, no smoke
But all clear.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem