Through the fissures of the ancient gate
I hear the echoes of the bygone days
I hold the relics of the faded age
I stitch the fragments of the lost page
I yearn for the sight of the vanished scene
I long for the glimpse of the former ways
I carve a path for the olden stream
I tally the records of the past phase
I unlock the barrier of the sirens
I enter again the endless spiral
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem