Is the long and distant past a history worth repeating?
Or shall we just move on, leave it behind?
Not show an interest in what went before us?
Not concern ourselves with all the daily grind?
Will nonchalance determine how we seal our fate?
Or can we see our faults and put them right?
Will all that went before us stand for nothing?
Or will we recognise this as our plight?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem