We walk through the hall of heroes as decorated warriors
War makeup clings to our skin
Draping all over our clothes are our weapons
Daggers, swords, bows and arrows, clubs, and war hammers
In the middle of the hall of heroes lies a decorated but elegant table
With 2 lit candelabras on one side and another one on the other side
But we walk on
Paying our respects to the fallen heroes and heroines
On the ground floor
And then we trudge up the steps
And we pay our other respects to the other heroes and heroines that have passed on
With our unfinished business finished
And our visit complete
We make our way to the exit
And we again prepare to face the cold rain
The elegant night, and the many adversaries out there that are waiting for us
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem