Strong stands Lima like a brave man does.
As pride of Peru and all that it bears;
It opens the gate to the mud-wrap church;
Winding rafts through fascinating arch;
All men in sin struggling through life
Wish hard to lift in decree and drive;
They stroll em' up through mud locks;
In seek of peace through serine talks;
Church of Peru is a listener of thoughts;
None is known to return vague and lost;
All hymn in glory of the mud-wrap church;
If thou a seeker of peace, come here n search;
Then comes a day in the month of July;
A day so nice and so promising to deny;
Still fate has plans designed in her whimsy;
To turn turtle flow and prove them clumsy;
It is twelfth of the month when it broke;
The finest bridge, all of Peru has known;
The bridge of Lima, The pride of Peru!
All thrown in gulf, all thrown into void!
All of five crossing the bridge this hour,
Are thrown down like drops on shower,
Who are these five? The chosen ones;
To gift Lima a fate in twisting turns;
Hundreds are known to cross each day!
Amidst all thunderbolts or storm at bay;
Yet that day is too calm to give way;
To break free the bridge! Is beyond say!
Why those five and why none else?
To meet a fate, to meet an end!
Are they the chosen ones as I say?
Or we are too young to conclude play!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem