we thought we were strong.
we thought we had it all under control
but no!
yes! we were hard, but not strong
we felt no chills in the rain, but we were not strong
the sun smote us in the day, but we did not burn, instead, we made hay! but we still were not strong!
because when the Calvary of the multitude came...
we did strike hard! we did cause effective damage.
we drove them away and possessed our territory.
but the strike broke us, we were strong.
we were hard, we were effective, but not strong.
we were brittle, a weakness we never fathomed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem