We stood in awe, my words reigned behind my back,
Like frogs, turtles, and agonies of the summer singing.
More of the sky burst forward, capsized as a boat,
Sinking with the intellectual kings and royal queens.
We stood with seas entranced, we asked a question,
Feeling what the demanding notions felt, the questions.
More than the old order, it was more than the mild disorder,
Fixing the nails in our very heads and pictures were hanging.
We stand in this stadium of the world, people have relented
Dodging, rebelling, feeling the singing of a minstrel in harm.
This great triumph spells all words to our memories,
More than the old order, more than suddenness.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
perhaps the situation is even worst. very sad feelings but very nice poem