Nothing comes out of faith
When the brick is not properly laid.
It is no life to live blindly
With demons leading the way.
The atmosphere feels certainly right,
But there are pits beneath the feet
On all sides.
No one is around to lend an arm
When luck has run out,
When the dirt swallows the body whole.
So what's going to soften the blow of the fall?
Who will be around to bring you up
When you have fallen?
If there is chance for escape
Will you make this place forgotten,
Or tumble down these pits again and again?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem