we have been writing this book
it could be painted in blue sky
where people after us would
remember petals of a dream
come drifting on dusking day
beneath roof where they stay
keep them warm through night
over a soup of love minch with
true stories of whole day's flight
to be awaken to dawning field
where hope sprout leaf of grain
to feed those hungry and children
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem