Rocks, jagged, poking their eyes from the sides of mountains,
holding on tightly, afraid to drop to the depths below.
Landscape's beauty sits fairly on horizons of dawn, but the
immensity of height forestalls the convenient jumping into
daylight, fearful of waking death in nightly cowls.
Rocks, jagged, slide slowly into unknown depths becoming like
the rest when dawn awakens herself.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem