THE SKY is a generator
humming night and day
The sky builds a system
catching every little movement
from leaves, insects and people.
Industry expands, decennium
after decennium, reproducing itself.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The ethics of the sky and the sky-lining factories and industries is different from each other. Up above the blue skies and underneath it the industries and factories and the smokes and dust of it.