Your drama is half-eaten like a toad has been caught,
Faces rear ugly nuances, noise corrupts the young;
One fellow after another creates fellowship and dramas.
Your dramatic moments amount to nothing after two hours,
The face is nearly empty of sin, the sins of your fathers
And even your sisters who reside in the whole house.
One seeks comfort in driven drives, driving a distance
That hatters are solving for the prize of the grand,
Forms of stupidity known to apemen contrive their apparatus.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem