The mountain is washed by the clouds,
The mounted beast is ridden at last;
But adventure is the solution to the sky
And the dangers lurking in the chambers.
This mountain is hot red magma, volcano,
Like the hottest bright star, at each avenue
Of space and time; but where is the fountain
Of despair? This mountain cannot stare at it.
For when you lick the waters of purity,
This mountain will wail and thunder,
It will avalanche, distress and torment you;
Like the old monuments of the dead and slain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem