Riches are given
But never enough-
To quench a man’s greed.
Secrets are in heaven,
That’s the worth-
Of truth which we need.
Standing on bended toes
Without content;
Waggling empty like a ghost;
So roads get narrower
And bends bender.
Now, who shall remain-
Under the broken sky,
When forever it rains?
Fighting because
We cannot win;
So doubting becomes
Our only sin.
Yesterday is a parable,
It’s days are true
And it’s wishes feeble.
No more about arrows,
But heroes.
No more about warriors,
But conquerors.
It’s foolish to offer fruits
When all we need is the truth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem