While walking through the woods, I came upon an open gate
and thought of the historical importance of this date.
How, from a haunted forest, a proud people once emerged
and left behind some of the pain connected to the scourge
their nation once subjected all their predecessors to.
This scourge would be concluded by an electoral coup.
But hopefully those people won't discover it's too late
for all of them to take advantage this open gate.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem