tell them
we are to win the game
as no checkmate
in their clever chess plate
can stop our marathon
the race
that goes for ages
that trots
like one never stopping
and never aging a horse
with many Suns and Moons
sleeping and waking
above in the blue cusps
will go for ages
passing by many life and death stops
tell them
we are to win the game
as many laps under our feet
proudly admit their defeat
and no clever chess plate
no dream checkmate
can tamper the victorious fate
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem