Stood up above my circumstances,
Circumcised by problems of the world,
Like a young cub learning to rule the jungle,
Far from the world of injustice,
Justified by my spiritual abundance,
I am the imperfection walking on the isle of perfection.
A descendant of heroic chronology,
I am tense with intentions to go forward,
Yet kept grounded by the roots of my beginning,
Like a volcanic eruption, I erode all cords
That tie my will.
I am a descendant of heroic chronology.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
classice dear, give me another one.