Who can tell just when or why
Nations rise and fall
None predict the day and hour
None fate's march forestall
Some will rise like meteors
crowning themselves king
some will kill and maim with power
and much sorrow bring
Yet as millstones slowly grind
thus long years and times
justice and redemption bring
to all erstwhile crimes
To the victor come the spoils
so the warlords say
yet when gold has turned to dust
coins of faith will stay.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem