Wonder is the brain of dreams, the wearing of wisdom,
The highest praise, a negative positivity, a live wire.
Wondered were they who survived the annual struggle,
Their wonders never finish, never do they conclude into struggle;
Fellowship has an absurd appearance from the wonder
We have witnessed from mouth and nose, foot and hand;
Struggle has never powerfully affected us to wonder,
Rather the marvel of a day is like the astonishment of the year,
What of the month? It cries from patience and toil, but no wonder
Has arrived.
Truth argues us to live in the days of the year to wonder.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem