In six day from nothing, only darkness,
He constructed light, solid mass, water and the earth
caused things to come into existence perfectly as if it was everlasting
and his gaze had fallen constantly
on this world,
a place where love was ruling without strive,
a place in the universe
where people were created in His image
and by own choice man himself brought destruction
listening to a obscure being,
letting ruination circle out much wider into posterity
and where hiding from God whispering to each other
and that which was once holy, noble and perfect
had fallen changing to dust and ash.
[Reference: Genesis by Ina Rousseau.]
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem