Beneath, there's life.
Above, there's life.
The fierce sun tucks himself away
After a long day standing
Like a snaggle-toothed Yak
Over lush plains of green and stone,
Valleys and smoking mountains
Thick with the scent of ash
And hot rice,
Our alluring cities filled
With humble jewels
The hue of families in love
And guests being welcomed
By a gentle nop.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem