The earth is icy-cold,
The air - flaming-hot.
You can your soul fold,
Unfold can you not.
The dire expectation
Will make you strong - or weak.
But look at your expectoration,
Your life's a fleeing streak.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very good. This is no ordinary poet. Welcome. Dasvidania