They fell from heavenly shoulders,
Turning into rocks that spun and sprang
Like offerings of Satan, offered by him,
No one felt so reckless as the soldiers too special.
Falling into arms of alarm, these limbs that brake,
Shattered into grains and ash, which ache also,
Opening into an inner cavern too close for imagination.
This hurt was from Satan, an evil beast so splendid,
One remarks on it being wiser as much as denizens of the ocean,
Under these are mountains where lava flows.
Beauty does not defeat in time!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem