One afflicted with 'choppers'
Finding hands unfit,
They turned to claws
Smell of death diffusing by;
To justice waving bye
Shuttering Eco-Feminists' roars
For the liver also they craved,
Taking, wanting and taking
For chopping won't stop,
Until profits are realised.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem