Waves draw back to see the breath
Of a thousand gods and their lights.
Warring day after day, they never suffer
The blows of a cruel hand,
Many hands erupt in all suddenness,
Much has been handsome for the blamed,
Might is righteous for succumbed beings
Who draw a veil on their faces to outshine
And deliver a note too hard in wisdom.
An eternal note of sadness has begun
To oversee us with words
So complete and distraught,
One sad man outlines his respite,
Two will overwhelm the pollution of thoughts
And a thought conquers only
When begun.
Waves draw back as the long line of spray
Hesitates and erodes with huge abrasion,
With huger erosion.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem