Flames flicker, fire burns.
Grass sways in the breeze.
Water flows, mountains stand tall.
Suns set, moons rise,
We fight on.
The path is clear, fate sees all.
Shields glitter in the sun,
Swords in the moon.
The world turns.
The end is in sight,
The sword strikes.
As the wind carries leaves,
So we ride the fate’s breeze.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I suppose we are to some extent swept along although I like the fact that I can invent my reality to a great extent as well, and I like the fact that nothing is static. Everything is subject to change, and this can be a very good thing. If you do not like the way something is, change it. Do not accept anything as permanent. Nothing is static. Set the world on its head. Try something new. Anyway, I liked your poem. It really got me thinking as you can tell.