A moment -passed by her land,
Frenzy -with smiles of those lost;
Little bird from her days past,
Unkind - quickening clouds of a dark land.
O- if she has already -grilled;
That lagged spirit into her veil -
Or yet! not with usual move asked,
A question unasked-
for the little bird.
And very often, early it wooed
To ages of mystery -behind his days,
And death comes to that land
Which starved-
Last pledge to bid.
But death itself be not proud,
as our boarders are faultless spikes,
and our land is within us- OF TRUTH
Yours -the truth ever to hatred.
And will resist -
Load of your sword -
With blunt arms of the gun,
We powered to surpass -
Bill you didn't;
Won, and excused-
The deceased of the forlorn.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem