Dark and gloomy in a rusty atmosphere
Blood and bones adorn the plains
As rustling and rattling crawl down the mountains
He wears that valour just to keep a-pace
With diligent strides in lazy days
Breaking in clasped palms
For a convene and a deal
From all ends of the table
To shed the colours of forlorn fear
Pain and disease, lack and loss
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem