Woe to all and sundry. What role have we, in this playing. I heard the calling, in my rosey bed of dreaming. Maybe, i will be the joseph to this land. To her land full of milk and honey. Geting dry every morning. If something is not done, the worse can get itself on. But if i could be your joseph, then count your safty safe. Because she has falling and nights are coming. Rolling with darkness complain. She obey not the voice of discipline. Correction is the lack of her parts of body. If care not taken, she wont be worthy. Her princes and princesses within her are roaring lions. Even her heads are wolves. They gnaw the bones till the morrows. Her prophets, priest and head, the three organs. Have polluted her sanctuary all. And have done violence to the lawWoe to all and sundry. What role have we, in this playing. I heard the calling, in my rosey bed of dreaming. Maybe, i will be the joseph to this land. To her land full of milk and honey. Geting dry every morning. If something is not done, the worse can get itself on. But if i could be your joseph, then count your safty safe. Because she has falling and nights are coming. Rolling with darkness complain. She obey not the voice of discipline. Correction is the lack of her parts of body. If care not taken, she wont be worthy. Her princes and princesses within her are roaring lions. Even her heads are wolves. They gnaw the bones till the morrows. Her prophets, priest and head, the three organs. Have polluted her sanctuary all. And have done violence to the law.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem