Thou shall not contempt
the stooping religion; approaching Armageddon.
thou shall not with held
the ceremonious rituals; fatalistic death.
could thou seemingly not notice
of what he doth knows?
mere shadows of the unheard voices,
flaming didst; craving souls,
gather not of what it appears to be
feel not a fraction of moment
floating souls thou would always be.
pride of heaven, mystery of hell,
thou would not even glean
the hasty crises; glorious moments of time
that has been
Pensive they sit, and roll their languid eyes
quench their thirst, and cool their heads with sighs
legs crossed and patient minds are they
could thee ever know that
'wrath lies beyond the placid souls'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem