Brooding on mad-faced liars
Corrects my soul, that lying
Is a burden and a taxation
On those who are richer than me.
My mad liar in front of me
Asks me how I wake up,
And how the water flows in this house.
This running about will correct
This establishment, from all unwanted
Letters of the law and public.
I have liars in this house,
Frightened of the energy
That quakes of rightness,
Ghosts are awakening the mind.
I have bracelets of golden danger,
The water flows inwardly,
Like fire of the highness,
Little love has been enhanced,
By all the mankind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem