Ice sheets are there
And the sky is covered
In icebergs, they at times
Break off and float
Beyond the sun and
Beyond the sky.
So many species are there,
Uncountable and horrible.
But all are in their
Respective borders.
The abode of truth is there,
In the abode of snow.
Nothing to put the question
Where, when and how.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wher, when and how? Thanks for sharing.