Bringing forth the darkness unseen,
Making the lives of the mortal once been,
Creating the power of the silent goddess,
To have and to hold, to love and caress.
Creating and stirring, flying and falling,
The making of sadness, death and mourning,
The pain of our bodies, minds and souls,
cups and saucers, and empty bowls.
Feelings of hate and detest,
can’t obtain a feeling of rest,
Bring forth the suffering of me,
And let it all again once be.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.