The colour must be changeable,
Resetting the vision of our ancestry;
One feels garrotted to be worshipped,
But even the cases of relish have survived.
This amazement has confused me,
When colours need to change,
Like the muscles contracting
And the peace of the bust that says nay!
A key value has enlightened the past,
With terminals of cathode and anode,
Discerning the truth of electric signals
Inside the senior citizens essentially.
A pole has launched itself to the moon,
Shifting habits with our crust and shape;
The earth and the soil of its creatures
Inhibits what is between.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem