Greed is a man who lurks in the dark,
Offer him food to make him hungry
Then in the dark.
The greedy people stop and glare
At us, to simply say the honesty
Of a whole generation.
Alas, the storm gathers after spraying
Us with gas and liquid,
The fluids rush from heaven
And end in a tumult of mud.
The storms say you are benign
But cross are the plains that deliver.
We encourage greedy men to hunger
Themselves and fulfill our desires.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem