To report is to warn, too darling of you,
I understand what the meaning of man is?
He is wary, he is scared, but nobody smiles
And tells all belief to other minds with clarity.
For clarity is the praiser of a sacred day,
Forming just men who never tell a lie.
The mastery of life is achieved by existing
Simply to sustain the belly that harms and enjoins.
I am beleaguered by your soul that whines and howls,
Like a bike or a roving boat, full of health, full of dire
Warnings to the prosecutors and oppressors;
Like a man you triumph and take on new steps to life.
I have reported when I have striven and written,
The writing is a lesson, not a prize for the beautiful one,
Nor is the beauty of a lying man a complete beauty,
For it is eroded by the clash of the seasons, and by war.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem