Strong is the psyche, never failing its will,
Like pillars of concrete, it bears weight unyielding;
Unbending and solid as cold, tempered steel,
No pressure or pain can compel its conceding.
Though trials may test till the limits are reached,
Unyielding, unbending, the soul knows no defeat.
But the vessel is weak, it may yet end this life,
Like thin, brittle clay, it can easily shatter;
Battered and worn-out through the passage of time,
Decaying to the same soil from whence it had mattered.
Though the soul is unyielding, and strong is the psyche,
The vessel is weak, it may yet end this life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem