You must consign to
Boy or girl
A baby once born
You are conscripted
By the belligerent world
You ought to be willing
Boy or girl
A baby once born
To stir to the reveilles' tune
Aged prophesy
Aggression would be so in use
That no space would be spared
On the frame of the heavenly ship
So long as the atmosphere attires it
Baby, you can't be a cobble stone
Therefore, shed your cuffs so early
Hence, embellish your shins with putties
And with the oddity of helmet
Accustom yourselves
Obsessed be not, with toys
But rather be engaged
In targeting work
Be creative
As it will embolden you
And only the bold toys with the world
Therefore be
Some challenge squarely awaits you
A sure thing
The world is an elderly place
In competitive mood
Home of hazardous potentials
A dynamite- its scenes
Galleries of mischievous crafts
With a pulse that will last
Until the Isra'il's trump
The trump of her doom
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem