The knotted hills were never untwist,
Diminishing clans leave their homeland
See mansions through the winding mist
Leave memories where the ugly houses stand.
Swim for freedom there is a palace beyond
The shining white sand and the sneer of hope,
Perches in the soul, make refuge in the chilliest land,
The gale that kept so many strangers warm develop
Into a greater storm, command the welcome arms
In extremity, survivors sing to the coldest tune,
The smarting wound washes vain waves with tears,
Angels hear the cry of strangers lost in the gloom.
Aftermath always so abrupt interrupts the brief interruption
Of whom we always assumed the world prefer to see
Responsible being watched clumsy boats swim for freedom
Grew calm until only sleep was left plain deft in a victory.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem