Translation from the Hebrew transcription:

 

Mona Vertonfero dedicated raven

We are a tone that her religion is a demon and eyelashes.

Losiel's father a mountain and his religion angelic beauty

A place where a stranger's blood melancholia

My mouth is empty Annabel, God is a writer and a traffic light

And a traffic light, a donkey, a bucket doctor bull for destiny

Because who would make something wrong, living room, puppy even

These are my horses to die studio of my grief

Green page shelf cross despite his peek

Slapped her maybe, don't have an idea.

​

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Translation from the Arabic transcription:

 

Mona Vera tuna fruits dreams, oh like it's broken

One or tuna yellow more or less of Russian crowns

Yes Vera, blue skies of angelic tuna,

Like this neighbour Dan Milan was eating

Fidel, a white grandfather supra Vera Azuri

Vera Azuri, beautiful, doctor yes

Eli Bassem, the prince of the Koran peace

Yes for sour if dead, or telephone Anthony

This yes or truck yes one

This train yes if sun crazy Dan color

​

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​

Translation from the Japanese transcription:

 

Wafer cake, belt, phone, crepe, anxiety, fold umbrella.

Your support is enough. Ditch, wasabi,

Britain and America. To see, to know, to get a picture book, the next stone put

Gate and can, climbing snake, deny to see, to come. A tree

Taken by surprise, temple, cheap bath, hand, pronunciation, speed, radio

Very much. Vinegar, pigeon road, Germany, gate, clever, Paris, pool.

You. Rice, Grandmother, salon, sesame, roast.

The souls of the war dead, nest, hemp palm, hemp, back, sail, you. Country.

Come out. Book. The larva of a dragonfly, book. Picture. Black. Thoroughly lonely.

Essence, tunnel, politics. Intermittent peace.

​

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Translation from the Spanish transcription:

​

Roberto's mother, the one in the front row, you are the peace of being.

O Antonio, you who listens to the stupid one who prayed.

It is the verb of Lucia that came, in an angelic tone

Mountains, as you give us a melancholic garden.

Fidel, the white of yee, gives them the bleach

Shame to the mouse from over there, of the doctor who speaks pure

who robed, robed me in the salon's bazaar when it was finishing

He assumes them dead or in complete agony

Of the arrogant's plastic wrap, he met him in a furrow

He fastened himself with the only arrow, damaged the furrow.

 

--

 

Translation from the Italian transcription:

 

Riding towards a front on rows or quiet sun,

pinched anatomies of touches of red,

And the green eroded sky of the oil tuna that

I ride as into a melancholic and ancient Japan,

loyal amber, golden on Piro against Lazzaro!

Towards the blue, you wait for the pale and pure October nevertheless,

The ones who contemplate the big bases can't languish endlessly,

and leave on man death or thin agony.

I can drag some papers, mistakes in the wind and cross of a cold siphon,

And only the young girls give long reason.