A hollow log lays in a bog, the outside appears just fine
By blight struck, filled with muck, a cancer seen as benign
Time will tell, as it dissolves the shell, revealing what's inside
What appears solid, an illusion squalid, majesty that has died
A bark once light now dark drips saturated as the sea
Under stretched skin what lies within is all that we be
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem