If a man cannot conquer love, the bound sense, many people praise of,
If a life cannot count the loss of many known faces, the once existence,
Then, how is the pain painful?
How is the love necessarily beautiful?
O, Dear foolish brain,
What a victory you are running after!
What a desire! You are hypothalamus monger;
If a man cannot conquer love, the ultimate truth, many people eulogize of,
If a life cannot be legitimate all time in womb, the universal pregnancy,
Then, how is the truth truthful?
How is the innocence innocent?
O, Dear comatose heart,
What a justice you are abiding by!
What a blood! You are baptized leech;
If a man cannot conquer love, the holy gift, many people glorify of,
If a life cannot be affine in the affinities, the one creation,
Then, how is the hymn Dharma?
How is the faith believably the God?
O, Dear pungent soul,
What a paradise you are longing for!
What a lament! You are born sufferer;
O, Dear Brain. O, Dear, Mind, O, Dear Soul.
You forget not
That sinking in the pain of love is the better than the wounds in war,
Glowing like a firefly is wiser than the burning flame of bushes,
Becoming the spectrum in the prism is meaningful than the flying ashes.
