the drives power one
and pleasant things are remembered;
an identity is evolved in pleasures
and pain makes its mark;
and the yearnings create the idea of permanence
and a long tradition of tribe and nation
engenders all our illusions:
so we sing, dearest love,
of purity and the stars;
and so we sing, dearest love,
of ideals and creed;
and so we sing, dearest love,
of grandeur and passion
and so our lives are played
amongst clouds and visions
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem