What could be a better language than the language of translation
A white curtain on which
All our handiwork stands apart like dirt
All crimes are perpetrated in mother tongues
Which always contain a discourse on innocence
There are times
When translation is the only place that has a remnant of sorts
The sound of tyranny in the native tongue
Is killing sympathy!
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This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem