Vice and virtue! !
Cried the beloved child of nature;
But, the affluent nations do not hear his or her cry.
What is so near to us and yet being still?
For the beloved child is still searching for food;
While, the attic wits and the spirit acts.
Born, but to die one day;
And like the hopes and joy from my friend Kerri;
For, i am like Authors without names.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem