What happens to diamonds when too much pressure is laid on
They shatter, Maya, they shatter
Just like the dirt and the coal and the fossils
They shatter, Maya, they shatter
Pressure does not always ripen a life
It is not noble, just like the poor are not always noble
Pressure breaks men and women, ruins them, robs them
It is not selective
What happens to diamonds when too much pressure is laid on
Bound by their immobility, they explode
Kept from giving way by their principles
They cease to exist, blow up, blow to hell
And anyway, Maya, what does it matteer
In the end you will be silent again and I will
Die alone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem