When I was just a child
I did not imagine world this wild
I imagined as if it was a big old hand
holding us on its fragile land
And so I cried
when I saw the earth dried
I thought this must be pain
crying for mercy in vain
Then I touched this fragile hand
there were things I could mend
so I planted colorful flowers all around
and then kissed the holy ground.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem