Water is the act of living a cloud,
We twist and twirl, forget our country
And skip the religion, wanting a leader
To turn the tide and commit anger.
And so with anger the blood runs,
We are blood at the beginning,
We are blood at the very end,
So soldiers of might will be towers.
Water and ice combine from atoms,
A clear lake is brought before the one,
Then the lovers cease and transmit
A progeny to lower the self and the cast.
When you drink it is nothing but surrender,
The liquid ooze is like the bone of torture,
But fear is at heart, and fears will dissolve,
So I shake from the waves caused by us.
The anger dwells against the will of man;
He bespoke, lifted his hair and heart,
To divulge in wicked longing, so follicles
Crawled into view to make the offenders decide.
Water is the act of the heart shuddering
Against the river of love, one is the titan
Of all past remembrances, one is wrought
Into iron by a Creator diverging in strength.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem