The poet is being neglected -
Not a good sign for all, my dear.
The words are not being used
Properly - the sign of great danger.
Each one is polluted here,
And no fruits, no flowers,
No grains, no milk, and nothing
Is with us, all are in poverty.
It is misfortune, we are not
Able to understand each other.
We are even no obliged to
Our own benefactor.
Time is not good for us,
Still, we are here waiting for good.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem