The image.
That leadership thing.
You know?
That 'hope',
To have all cesspools...
Cleansed.
So fresh to drink.
People would refuse to believe,
Those cesspools were not...
Wells.
Producing the clearest Spring water.
That image given and picked,
Would solve all their problems.
And...
Told this to have believed.
Then actually picked and chosen,
To lead them through...
Canyons and caves.
Deserts.
With no need to quench their thirst.
And with promise they will together,
Witness the luscious and wonderful...
Emerald City.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem