His face began to light up,
For how long? For the time being?
I asked him to fling his strike
At the better man, the rigid one.
I, as a zealous person gained more luck,
For days and nights lingered and stood.
He looked brave and mad
Like a hound that surfaced from the deep
Of the jungle.
Leave his son and daughter
Now that pebbles and stones
Have explored the bodies of light.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem