I was immensely stimulated by the notes
Of a gesture that was old and minute,
Lengthy citizenship ended the search
Of able heaven, a green cycle erupted out
Of the deep chaos dangling behind
And entering the new position.
Still the pen is displayed and returned to
The owner of worries, righteous action follows
Suit to end all the triumphant trumpet inside.
Nought is realised by the byzantines,
Killing them is wise, losing enacts a density.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem