The old ones told of magic;
now it's gone
and we are all that's left...
new people, flawn
by pragmatism, science
all that's 'true';
we boast with our defiance -
honeydew.
and still there's some among us
who believe
in what we call 'blasphemous'
and 'naive';
their faith is all that matters,
all they knew;
and our belief... it shatters...
magic's true.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
what is flawn? a pancake?