Just made of stone
The great mountain
Yet always firmly alone
Under the weight of the sky
Proud under its burden
Just made of water
The great sea
Yet stands as father
Of ancient pondering
Profound in its emptiness
Just made of earth
The plains
Yet filled with bloom and birth
And breathing with freedom
Versatile in its character
Made of wisdom and of heart
Humanity
Yet shallow in its intentions
Not able to bear blunt reality
Afraid in our fragility
Certainty lies in the fact
We will be made strong
As we all end up in the ground
I say nothing wrong
When I envy the days to come
Days to be spent as stone, earth, water
All the virtues
We'll never retain
All of the knowledge
We can not contain
As with clouds the sky stains
We carry the world
As earth beneath the plains
And flowers shall grow from me
Draw roots and stand
In their presence I will forget
The world, bitter and bland
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem