The men of the beings are greater than snow,
That falls onwards and outwards like the blizzards.
Throughout centuries, the history of men and
The gaze upon the stars foreshadowed oblivion.
Throughout the world’s end and noise,
A historian summed up his belief in the twists
That the pages supplied of the furnace that
Was the mind. So speakable was the thought,
That we gave it life, and life was a history
To be solved by those who also have deaths.
The deaths and lives of a thousand devils
Were called the same as a million demons.
The men of beings were historical statues
So inflamed by the angry ages of a hundred
Men and women, the children of the children.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem