I belong to the circle of the Wise;
Honored by age, privileged by time.
Necessity of unwarranted unity;
Hanging on a thin line of interest;
An urgent call accepted by all
United by blood, divided by greed!
Choir of politics sung in unison,
With a bunch of praises and blessings;
Showering upon anointed heads.
Celebration ends as action remains
Caught in a confusion of command;
Who will honorably mediate?
Do we blame this new dawn,
Which reflects this ray of shock,
Leaving daunting tasks in shakes?
Or must we curse the past shade;
That we sat under, as the old sun set?
O’ big brother, tell me, where is the way?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem