The falling of exterminators burns floatingly,
Their souls are rejected by the dozens
Kissing the rocks of unclean elements
In the meaningful time.
To surround the intellect with fires and balls of fire,
We seal the soul with the essence it should contain
Which is plain to see and is quite grander than divinity.
In this meaningful place we call Paradise
An incident is of luxury, their signs are never
Resented by the looking people who touch the
Thoughts going through their souls.
Meanings of heavenly pain are obscurer
Than the falling bricks
As they plummet into the centre of the Earth,
A world we have contained with our brilliance.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem