To the beginning of the morrow,
to the inglorious bastards of yesterday.
To life as it happens,
rolled into the clouds before the golden sunshine.
To the world as it happens across the coasts.
From the highest peaks to the dawns of a desert.
To life, to all its unsavouring moments,
its pleasures and numerous laughters.
To life, and to the beginning of tomorrow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem