The earth moves under our feet, we return to the same,
Grounds bulge in irritation, as birds descend onto soil.
Rivers of ice lurk beneath the clouds, voices of the past
Dally forward and march to the foreground in a spirit.
I improve on the sound of grooves and hooves,
I find the height high, I found the horses low.
My hands are in full control, their shuddering is light,
Where is the crown sitting on my head nowadays?
The world is higher in the sky, improving with speed and listening
To people who crowd around, along the rivers and oceans.
Suddenly we move and listen, I see more than others,
Proofs proclaim the thoughts in my head, as one more turning point.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem