A long march
With a fearless mind
Tireless spirit
Without the hope of a victory
A hope for the future
A one of a kind.
Future?
Who has seen it?
Known it?
Has it shown itself
To the crusaders
Or the bystanders?
We leave all
All that we have
The present
We resent
And build sand castles
In useless pursuits
Towards the end of war
Worse still
Towards the end of love.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An awesome poem and Sand castle word felt.