It is not God’s Land, any more,
much is submerged, ancient is gone,
Good old days are buried alive.
I swim on the seemingly
safe currents tossing above,
Oryx, restrains its move,
Crazy bull with fierce looks
attacks not but recede,
Market fairs look defeated,
Ozymandias, no longer subdues
Our passion and prided anger,
Yet, human Temerity tames tangible.
lay your head on your
hands and brood over
how to recompense the loss.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow! Such a mature write. The loss will never be paid again.