Destitute minds are enslaved by desires
Bereft of the noble heights of sense
Predisposed just to give vent to passion's fire
It's a life of mere vacuous existence.
Man is a slave to whatever masters him,
He becomes blind and devoid of Reason.
Swayed like the leaf to every fleshly whim
Unmindful of his own life's direction.
Such are the victims of their own weak emotions,
Having their bodies stand upside down.
For the brain is above and should rule our actions,
But these men, they are ruled by the organs they own.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem