Why do you keep on digging?
What hadn't rotten in my bones?
How did I die, had I been living?
Was I a myth, when there were thrones?
For all the ages, have you been seeking?
What were the questions have you been asking?
What do you want from me if I am here, now?
I cannot speak; so, why and how?
Answers don't have to be giants, do they?
Survivors don't have to be giants, do they?
Revive what was vanished, while what was left dies to reach my place.
Was there a reason to remember my race?
What would you learn, has my existence something to tell?
Should have I really died to make things well?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem