Deep in complexity we decide the future
As the trees bow to the mercy of Nature;
Black-and-white scenes bestow grace
On the green scenery we call a naturalness.
Dazzling light goes changeable, like stars,
It blurs in front of us, it changes into colours
That are brushed aside like the brain.
Bouncy spheres are the bountiful bullets,
Destroying decisive mistakes for them.
Dashing past, the bullets frown on the trees
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem