I have a destroyer among you, people,
For they muttered a catastrophe in their hearts,
When hearts were condemned by a dozen gruesome goblins
Each of them gathering singing dust to dispel the offenders
Who were foreign and angry, forceful and dangerous, in
A quiet display yet.
I have an aggressor in my cerebrum, an unkind calibre,
That steals the soul from hearts, quietly
And expertly, like a foul creature.
The destroyed soul is all the worry,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem