When things seem to happen contrariwise,
A state of hopelessness also prevails;
When virtues are suppressed by men of vice,
The oppressed class still faces mighty gales.
‘O God, Hast Thou forsaken us? ’ We ask;
I taunt myself for being in great haste;
Have I to wear like others God, a mask?
The environs disfavor ones who’re chaste.
O God, let not the upright go berserk!
Help us to undergo this transient face;
Let not the mishaps threaten us or irk;
Let Thine grace help us challenges to face.
But let us not slide down the upright-hill,
Or take our bath in polluted a rill.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem