Dew drops the heavens give
Crops fill their parching throats
Rivers slither past of pythons style
Oceans swell
And the meadows blossom;
Still humans yawn with scorching throats
It irks to see those thieves
With the public wealth on wheels
From those Porsche abodes
Overlooking the hovels of the common
Man
It doesn't pain them see us
Wallow in our wanton wretch
Hybrids of their greed and oblivion
We live soft and they eat hard
Of our quotidian toil
It pains us to see our robbers
Strutting past
Some applaud even this ruining vice
In the peanuts that drop in their
Farnished mouths
Too late when age knocks
And our children like sheep
Will run same path.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem