they thought
all of them that no man can ever step on the moon
this is outrageous!
impossible!
they all think
love never blooms in the world of soldier ants
those that are
hungry for themselves
that night there lived a writer
somewhere in those misty hills
i do not know
whether he is talking about himself
or someone else
but it is a fact now
the characters are true
and still alive
they who raised violets in the desert
one moonless night
they put a star
their last hope
that morning
a tiny flower blooms
so tiny
that it escapes the attention of camels
and their riders
from where waters rise into the sky
building a new river
majority of course
despite having drank a glass full
still
do not signify belief
they all claim
we are still asleep...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem