While she lay the crust broke and we cherished,
Then we perished as if an earthquake shattered the ground.
Indeed the shivering of the layers beneath looked right,
But coldness and hotness were the opposites.
Shut were our mouths from all of the shards
In the air and atmosphere, in the sky of blueness.
Lying on the ground is mostly fortunate and benign,
But devils are unchained and wreak havoc
Through the earth and clay of our life.
The crust today has broken as she lay,
Lying on the ground is usually gladdening.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem