By the time whiter coated travellers moved hugging microscopes
Mother nature closer to her cycle again offer hopes
Not the hope we all want a movie happy ending
Rather hope for missed ones on rubble will be mending
Polluters populating they travelled through Her veins
Until Her calendar announced never heard of pains
Her airways saw it airborne and so Her cycle began
Panic stricken rulers with fewer followers plan
And a handful hopeful with features from the east
Remind us patiently on fake attachments not to feast
Arno Le Roux
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem