How the one of Hell looks on is vital,
The ones of their abode cherish the homes,
For they are vital and logical inquiries.
How am I to envisage the real enigma?
This mysterious wooden planet looks on,
Confounding us to its last drop and detail.
Just as a bird of prey walks in the air,
A mammal called humanity combs the globe
With intrepid and perilous ways.
The heaven awaits those in a patient struggle,
The hells are too many to count,
And we are instant rulers of the same.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem