The culture of the times decides the future,
A custom shall vanish if too many traitors;
The modern man expertly delves into the past,
After so many astonishing cultures perpetrate the world.
I see an atom and want to bow and praise it,
For it defines the matter of the world,
Being in the shadows is of the darkness of life.
Adjectives many, adverbs few, the draining of the
Livid sentence seems to be the work of verses.
One has sayings of the older traditions,
Feeling a hill, waiting for the surges of a man
Who can uplift the breathing mechanisms,
Little may arrive in the way of a stupid dream,
Little men have been promising a desire,
But their leaders vanish afterwards, too many
Of their illnesses are about with seals of rightness.
Many cultures will decide their tactics and strategy.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem