Our fate
Time will come that the Earth
Will be jar, which I have
That I kept; full of dead
(Of insects)
Big-Bang was pouring peas
Then the guests; Adam-Eve
They grew in numbers
(Life on Earth)
Roads and paths, passages
Cut trees and jungles
Dammed rivers
(Ice melted)
Black cloaks with six legs
Mostly died, few births
Rare are moves
(Our fate, soon)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem