This I express to usual times,
A sense of justice has chimes,
No crimes, nor devils of hardness,
Just innocent helpers and neatness.
The little jokers fear a crowd,
Which do not dare enter aloud.
Why do joking few contribute to the whole menu?
This exactness is humour, a lesser one to argue.
We are in times of distress,
The very hilt of the sword is to assess.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem