This world is not ours, we left it someday before,
Here science is leading the way to injure
And keeping her wonders at her store.
The worthwhile piller of lanky wax,
Burn himself to bestow blaze.
Do we any calculate sometime awhile?
Their pain and agony behind their smiles.
Are we being made of pebble?
Weilding their mortal and equable.
How much egotistic do we do?
Why much egotistic do we do?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem