A relic of history
Yesterday's atrocities
Reflecting in parody
Night rebels
Time on evident cheat exhausted
No aquintance with tomorrow
Nailing a future wasted.
Better assured days on row
Feeling the foetal rope
In the dead mama
Yet it kicks in hope.
Only a dunce does not fear
That subject of the unbecoming,
Sounds sweet in the street.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem