On this deserted land
I stand
Facing current
I feel a furious gust of wind
Swiftly blowing
From years gone by
Shouldering heavy sobs
Of our broken forefathers
They whimper
Like a lowing herd of cattle
Crying like babies
For now the one precious seed
They had sown
On this very land
We stupidly crush
With foreign hammers
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem