All the object of his labor;
the goal towards which man has to haste,
what does he figure it out to be?
I've lingered and dwelt at this spot
beyond any measure of logical reasoning,
it rendered me thoroughly antagonistic
in an old-fashioned trend
and deep down in my heart,
I felt like committing a murderous act.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem