When a river
Born in myth
Disappears with time
It turns again into a myth
An unseen goddess
Still invoked with hope
She can appear again
By those who dream
The past can be revived
With them still at the helm;
Often a bird thought to be extinct
Finds its way back,
A plant flowers after years,
As if on cue;
A shunned language
Climbs down
From its solitary peak
Hoping to flow
Like a river
Among the people
It once shunned
The words are of the other world
Justifying the iniquitous ways
Of the god of the status quo
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem