Eagles commit suicide, but Not out of despair or out of A failed love, but This is the way they end, They are the pretty occupants of The high skies where They prevail until They die their way, They beget new eagles To be or not to be, They're hovering endlessly up In the skies to be there And watch from tops only, so They are always pretty eagles, They never give up, even by some way, hit or beaten, Their names are brands, so They stay eagles even after they commit suicide because they were born strong and bold.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem