Solace falls into the wrong hands tonight,
Moving like trees in the wind,
Seen by all.
And rocks and boulders burn in the sun
Searing flesh with merciless heat,
Burning every stone.
The hands with solace arrive at the stones
Moving like trees, burning in the sun.
Solace arises into the sky to shower across the lands,
The trees flourish, and the stones are cooled in the rain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem