What a pity! Many are in danger of becoming history before their time. They are undermining the rigidity of the hand that rock their cradle; they have forgotten their place in history and time; they are fast wearing the costume of forgetfulness; they are running the race of life on the track of destruction; they are blindfolded by the hallucinations of western civilization; their ancestral trends is alarming the sound of sorrow; they neglected their aged parents and circumstances are about to make them live in the world of doom.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem