O' the chieftain who has the country with the shore
of the reverberating sea with its waves
that keep aside the fleshy odour of the carp fish
by the pleasant smell of the flowers of Poon tree!
If and when the supposed to be the showering rain is not falling,
And when the virtuous people are not doing
what help they can do to others, How can the lives of
all the living things in this earthly world survive?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem