Still wondering why the ceiling cascaded,
We lifted the pens that wrote all of the time;
Near a well of the house called greatness
We timed our steps and found a speedy victory
Due to boldness and august splendour.
One still sees what is, one finds what is
To be steps and stages of a great system.
They walk down and convey a sense of peace,
Opening the doors to the gates of spreading disease
But eliminating it afterwards due to signs of youth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem