But even when
all is said and done
crumpled sheets of life and madness
wrung straight despite the certainty
of deceit... this mother
with trembling hands and salt laden
vision will still skip a heartbeat
every time her haughty sons trip
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Yes, true: our land is our mother and we, her haughty daughters and sons. We will recognise the earth's love power when it's too late, I am afraid. Thank you dear friend for this wonderful poem, I am overwhelmed, maybe a too big honour for my humble little poem. But I am so glad for your write, hope it will raise awarness for us to be more loving with our mother land.