Seven angels come
After it rains
With the rising sun
Not until the battle is done
Seven angels with the rising sun
Got to battle the seven sins
Or the beast shall win
And we shall have no peace
Angel's trumpet
Such sweet release
The battle is hard
Many lost
Can not let the earth be the cost
So let the stones gather moss
Let pestilence suffer the loss
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem