The longhouse partake no more
Victims with anguish and sore,
In-side the tunnel of life
Many who pass ne'er return
Vanish'ng like ashes in urn,
The survivals live to strife.
They live per-hour as their last
To breathe in momentum fast,
'Tis the plague for all mankind
To live in this torment'ng time
For death seedlings to grow prime;
'Tis a plague: Carry in mind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem