The earth is damp,
the scent of the beginning of the world.
People now cry for all the injustices
and they laugh at the hypocrisy,
We move together through our small world
with a gentle rhythm,
I ask you 'Where are we going'?
You reply, 'To the birth of our passion,
to the essence of a natural grace
that dances with nature's raw illusions,
we will feel no end, just the beginning.
Our moments is the magic.'
We breathe in all the damaged souls
and exhale to fill their void.
The earth reaches out to the sun and the clouds gratefully,
I mend as you drive carefully
around every unknown bend,
divided but now as one...complete.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem