year by year
we scrutinize tradition
we sort beliefs and
well, discard some
we find new things
and compare the old
we know some are
wrong and we begin
to accept what we think
is right, we ponder,
it is still about us,
how we must survive
how to play the game
and enjoy it more
i like it, that photo,
when we all look up
to the sky, to the heavens,
to what is beyond us.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem