This bridge I cross reaches humanity, and superhumanity is across. The misery curtails our liking in the way of remorse, and the bridges are burnt furthermore. We can not be cross on this, the remorse lasts so sweetly that our compulsions are added. Once more the caring becomes obsolete, running away from danger, restricting the changes, and delivering scholarship and arrogance. This bridge I work upon carries on with the winds even, the wind is blushing my cheeks as I work on this engineering project as a workman. My boss is fully competent, as a humanity has begun to replace the supermen.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem