I Shall Keep Crying Poem by Muhammad Shanazar

O! Heedless Generals of the parading troops,
Overloaded with the warring martial contents,
I shall keep crying aloud, at the top of my voice,
Though my tongue is plucked out of the roots.

You are the blind dummies of the sightless kings,
Only you pillage, plunder the world to increase a row
Of brassy stars upon your thick broad shoulders,
Or to gather a medal worth a dime to embellish,
Your hollow heartless rattling cold-blooded chests.

You obey the master kings with out knowing,
To kill, kill and kill humanity: the fellow beings.
What aims are yours, what missions you struggle for?
Just for vain victories imparting pungent pleasures.
You have been blood-drunk since the period pre-historic,
You have been playing the game, the match of butchery,
You have been entertaining with the bloody sport,
To kill, kill and kill is your hobby, a painful pastime.

I shall keep crying aloud, at the top of my voice,
Till guns, cannons thunder, the fighters jets grumble,
The bombs blast, the missiles lacerate the air.
If my sound offends, torments and troubles you,
Prod your fingers into the porches of your ears,
Or block them by pouring into them molten lead.

A single rider does not raise a storm of dust, I know,
Yet I shall perform my task, discharge my responsibility,
So that I might not be included in the list of characters,
Who set the fair Earth on fire, deformed it into inferno.