Notre Dame burned
but the city kept ringing...
Culture appears to be
dying,
the proletariat
thriving.
In the village
time stands
still,
yet every hour
you're reminded
that in the rest of the world
it moves along.
There you sit,
mesmerised by
nature,
yet blind to
human nature.
Some say
the soul
of the village
is in the toll
of the bell...
To remind us of the disparity.
Notre Dame or the eternal soul where the bell of heaven is ringing for awareness!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
beautiful poem 10++++