The state swaddles dissenters in Old Glory,
Hoping for silent submission and docility.
If we squeal a contrary thought,
We are labeled an unpatriotic lot.
The brave discard their swaddling clothes;
Free speech is the only threat they pose.
If an opposing position you find;
Do not fear—let it move your mind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem