A silver hammer lies with its head down
in a corner
I pick it up
Realizing it's the size of a sledgehammer
The silver glitters in the sun
This weapon seems magical
Someway, somehow
Walking along
Walking with it over my shoulder
I know it's going to serve a purpose
One way or another
On my travels
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem