Change the course of history,
So that the building of rest is absurd.
My gorgon hisses fully in my direction,
The underworld can keep secrets,
But a gorgon hisses in me
All of the secrets of stone,
That I become stone itself.
The history I observed as a child
Made me an angry statue
By scouting this far,
There is no glimmer of hope,
And I revere this.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem