Unhappy is the man
Having no mental ease
Who suffers from self-conflict
And kleptomaniac disease
No self-contentment
Even seven continents are given
How can this man be happy
Being a soaring raven?
Who believes not himself
Nor faithful to fellow feather
Who is Mr. Jackal and Hide
With false grieving weather
Millionaire in material
Mendicant in heart
No soap is invented yet
To wash away his dirt
Remnant of a burned palace
Nothing but ashes
Remnant of a decaying soul
Repents and remorses
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
nice. full message.