Dust smashed and buildings shook,
Boxes of coated people asked for their borders;
The real burst of bustling bothered them,
The brass inside their houses bespoke of greatness.
Goodness swept like cobwebs,
Colored in a field of arrows, wonders ceased.
Competition cracked cushions, agreed with light,
In comparison with skilful sailors of the seals at sea.
These boats that sailors used coughed
Comfortably, carelessly, innocently and delightfully.
My dust and ocean stank,
It managed to be a collar for me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem