Among the crisscrossing hills of life
Are running rivers, carrying time
Downwards, it turns and falls
Heading for the shore
Answering sea's calls
Born from mountains far above
Meandering through meadows of hope
It might feel like it's not on your hands
But with every turn and every delta
Your choices draw the lines on these lands
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem