A people are born.
Born to be vast.
It's sheer non-sense as I speak because it feels we should run.
Making us think we are the last.
The liquid gold of my land is snatched upon by the thieves.
They do this to elevate their wealth.
I laugh at them with anger because its mischief.
I know what the heroes of my land felt.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem