It starts as a lump of soft soil
The sun scorches it
And for years it has become this
Hard stone
It has no face
Just this blank flat and smooth
Edge
And some corners that the seasons
Shaped
It is strong now
Facing the sun looking for more light
Mustering some courage to afford
A stare
Without being destroyed
Indifference makes it
A name for itself
Hate it shuns out
Love, it still has to know
Perhaps in another season
The rain may send the message
When
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem