A tower erupts suddenly, it is volcano.
Severing ties with kin and soldier,
Breaking the bonds of slavery with civilisation.
The towers are full of people, the artless;
Yet the listening acts are made
For the emancipation of those same people.
Those with love are also in fondness, audacity,
Happening right, events are stations of the soul.
When the tower erupted we found treasures
Of sensible life, the tower was in flames.
Authority is a book of the best ostrich,
The weird yourself, never in sensible life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem