And when the brim is borne
We become We become
Eager days in spells
Raindrops leading to
Heart thrust
And when our tears run
We are born, We are born
An offering of the chalice
Lips close to chance
Lees unfilled
And when we have drank yet
Full
We have won, we have won
Sorrows will occur
Despair and cries
Fears flaring in flame
And when we tarry unburned
We are as the sun
As the sun
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem