It all ends as it begins, the fire
Of divine creation consumes again the
Twisted remnants of our mortal inspiration -
Watch them as they streak across the sky.
We are both the chosen and the fallen -
And we are, one-by-one, toppled
Forests of antiquity - barren
Branches fractured, brittle china
Of our reconstruction.
The desperation of mortality, the
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem