Heaven cannot use its arms to partly undo
My maiden, or comprise loyal subjects.
Heaven shall hope to praise me with decisions,
Mocking a fluid moment with solidity that encased pride.
Honey warred down valleys, flowers reached
For the pillars, as walking uttered words like the snow.
A teasing moment became my afternoon,
Cut by the outrageous witches of the east and west.
Sparkling and glittering in the sunrise,
I laughed to my maiden, I lost my limbs,
And entrance was banned due to colossal queues.
A gate beamed on the manned bridges,
Galactic avenues pierced the crossing.
The incredulous words bespoke and believed
From historians, the occupations of degrees
And laughter, of merriment and disease.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem