To note the details of an age is perfect,
And to drive a car into chariots is ideal,
But the soldiers of disbelief are like deserters,
Fleeing the evaluated beings and sorrow.
To deduce this record we must pay for the old
And new in same ways to the payment of gold;
This much is the difference of a day in simplicity,
Much can compensate for the crying crime.
I impose a new religion on the weak and infirm,
Those who deviate are splendid and supreme,
A statue is like them, in the day and the night,
One force-feeds his own yogurt, a creative chemical.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem