At every instant, the call of the spirit
Resounds in the split heavens.
We are going to the dead land,
The male earth of clay, to be joined
To our special companions,
The female race.
Luck is with us, what is this beautiful place?
This is where fortune reminds us of life,
More life is more vision, more than we can imagine.
At each call from the heavens
Is an answer of the tower,
Troops of angels beckon to realise
The hurts and joys of Man.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem