Drop of ink from pen to paper peace
rapture of delight whiteness of light
crowning of achievement no more
bereavement of wives there children
The minds of all await such time
as this commingling untangling
singing praise to those whom are
wise and would see it
Yes the mountains are steep firm
hold on to the edge the water flows
down to quench the hurt of there thirst
so a say in there future parched no more
Children education health minds expanding to
grasp what is theirs thirst for the heavens and stars
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem