The mountain near the sea, seen on the hill,
The sea is so silent, but also clear.
On the mountain is seen a man so still.
The sea is pretty, disappear it won't.
Outside in the forest the trees rumble.
More then a mere rumble can it be,
For it sounds like trees are not crumbling.
Look at the small owl trying to fit in.
The river, the river, its ebbing tides.
Land dead ahead the shore, the shore, dry land.
The river created by the tears cried,
The shore like an island trapped in a can.
Hear the bird chirp, chirping in the dark sky.
An panther, a gazelle low but not high.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem