To wave a brave man comes with fun,
Construct a bend, construct orphan.
To die may buy some certain craze,
The orphanage designs always.
We burn from lusts that orphans don’t,
Their purity must force, but won’t.
The excellence surprises me,
Of children working a penny.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very nice poem.... You have a way with words