Tigers roar,
In my mind,
An echo of a sacrosanct religion,
Lost to the ages.
Birds cry,
Like the clouds above,
That weep a beneficial life,
Into the Amazon.
Monkeys play,
Every day
Oblivious to the investments,
Of the Forest's Death.
Tigers roar,
In my mind,
An echo of a sacrosanct religion,
Lost to the ages.
Forever.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem