North or South or East
West and the open sky
Short of one to be hexagon
A citadel of fortification big
Stout eagle ever perched
Pretty seated and sure
Only a vulnerable face below
But it is the structure's root
The crust can't be sailed
Edges underestimated
Vertices so neglected
Some devils saw loopholes
Struck the edges and died
Went sadly with innocent ones
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem