The house turned into a cube,
Forwards the bricks marched
To launch upon the throne that wonders
At the kingdom and the pain of idle items.
The lift was exhilarating, the march offered
By the pleading, heating and cheating
Accompanying the palace in the sky.
The house of pain was upon them like torrents
Of black smoke,
Casting their flesh aside,
Without the fierce flames
And wondrous delight.
Much was bartered, much sold,
Letting the pains go by in multifarious
Engines.
The house of cubic size had been cement
In the rain of this one delivery
Into space and the beyond.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem