There are things that we know
are not questions of belief
Our planet is not the center
you and I are not the omphalos,
Dumbfounded by such revelations
we refuse to accept this
instead speak in riddes use language
reflecting dizzy notions
sun-up sun-down,
dawn dusk and good morning
Circling around Sol we rise and decend
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem