Classic Poem

Stacking countless lights of relief
the night welcomes the hometown.
Look! Appearing at all the doorways
all the widows hold their voice.
Donkey, put authority on the ground.
Squire,
write the time on his fur.
My authority drowns in the distance of madness
and your authority
drifts to the hometown of relief.
Donkey, turn back to the distance,
to the predawn hours of laziness.

Voiceless, I will soon
be welcomed into the garden of barren women,
turn, again voiceless,
into a plant,
and place a definite shadow
on the ruins of the territory.

Donkey, you who will after this
modestly restore the sovereignty of laziness,
in your master's night of relief,
you must not leave anything,
you must not leave anything.