breathing life
into envisaged giants
our days were long
but calling
we finished standing
these stones of time
their face our face
our hands were bleeding
as we sank into the ground
left a future in our wake
diminished
we knew we had to do it
but to their colossus
we now rest in peace
to set all peace to come
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
They left us a colossus as a vision of lasting peace. We cannot inhabit it and our communities do not re-enact such visions. Now the sloshing and ebbing of capital builds towers, but we do not invoke colossi to haunt them.