Tailors do wish to bribe the barking time -
And jump the cue to make a swift delivery.
Bankers eat their cake to grant a loan -
And have it back from the sold collateral.
Poets are fooled by the glitters of the ink,
To forget that, a paper is a man's labour.
Priests wear certain designed tailored cassock -
And think they know God than any other man.
Doctors do the worse to imprison men in life.
Lawyers of law, now till when? Ages of vanity.
A debt to be paid, awaits the rich and poor.
No man, ever believe himself a mortal to die.
The fears of hell & hopes of heaven, a grave.
All men, debtors of a singular debt, death.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem