An inept man is a man who really swears,
The horde of men who really swear carry flags;
This age is vast to deliver a thought of wishfulness,
May the ages of a finicky man be sworn to him,
So that years and more years appear on him.
This inefficient man or woman is ready,
Fulfilling demands and fretting, filling.
The worries of an era of disorder are against us,
But the finicky people have lately been against us,
Like the worries of a prior age that destroyed us.
This fussy man is a fussy man of strength,
Lulling the road ahead like a given way so strong,
This fussiness is ineffective and never alive.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem