The revolutionaries say they want a second chance-
but their heads are off at the necks-
and you know how those types like to lie.
They look so brave though, mounted atop those poles-
we stop and bow a dozen times a day;
I thought I heard one of them sigh.
The revolutionaries say they were cut down before their time,
say they had infallible plans for a new democracy-
much better than the one we had, last time..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem