While the sun set on a dynasty
In a land where the sun never set,
In a country far off in the west
A collective mourning was held.
In a state of the land where
The grass now roots desperately,
Red bricks lie scattered,
Teeth and fangs bare and shaky.
The daughter of the mourning land,
And the ruler of the state that stand
Now watch in grave dismay,
As lotuses peep beneath the dirt
And now they bloom, all bright and gay,
Posing a thread to unshakable bastions,
That once seemed invincible.
The land that rose, and the land that lost,
Celebrate and mourn the rise and fall,
While time it smiles a glorious smile,
Awaiting turn for another verdict for all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem