Methinks dear friend
How are we snared?
Sweet words uttered
Action poor stuttered.
Setting Web white
Around spiders wait
As hunters behind
Trees eagerly squat.
We need income
Flow like rain fall
From black clouds
Among thunders.
Sun for sons shine
Moon for women
Sweet is nature
But O! culture.
In muddy thought
My body God made
Still I seek ways
To escape always
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
sun for son shine Moon for woman, fine,