Boundless ages destroy my feelings,
Dejected I bind the pages of my book.
Yielding pages are fluttering in my wake,
A rough machine manages the electric.
I have paused and stared into the abyss,
Reluctant and sorry for the ages that went;
This goal is yours also, to mightily surround
Us in our speech, working towards a righteousness.
Bouncing into the ocean I navigate
And stretch forming tatters, splatters and matters.
This swimming learnt will aid my life
To overcome the riddle I have experienced.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem