Our windows to the outside world
See all there is to be—
How many a man and woman fold
Their souls into inhumanity.
Greenest of greed—
These lustful seas
Have their waves
Crashing in its wake;
Those that claim
To be holy,
And even rows
Sailing for the sake
Of discovering wealth,
Encountering pride,
Immeasurable edits
On nature's tide.
The impossible beckons,
For all that reckon
We'll make it
Through the night.
They see his rising,
Watch her winding,
But they might as well
Be clasped, eclipsed,
Forgetful of that they'll
Keep on shining,
And our pleasures shall
Be relaxed, dismissed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem