With some people burning and some concerning,
The fires of humankind are far out at sea;
For the water rushes through the seas,
Littler fishes swim towards their waves of contentment.
The churning and the governing is far,
For to earn me a river is easy,
And solidly surviving shall be hard,
And spurning the fish is like rejecting
Their tastes, of the iron in our blood.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem