To madden me is enviable by some,
Artificial wit is the cause of all guilt;
My strange complexion speaks my tone,
And the voice has been inherited.
Our minds are incompatible and unsafe
According to the laws of politics.
One lad defies us now in speech,
To madden it is to estrange them beyond belief.
An incomplete soul is a life too toned
In the disbelief unachievable and desperate.
May logic still weep on the lines I have found
To be the true words of the sort I call at home.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Excellent use of the language. Great insight. Keep up the good work! ! ! 10 from me.