Often talked of in bygone
a feel is being returned
Opponents honing rapiers
for tables thence turned
All those inconsequential
to milieu were consigned
Now standing vanguards
as redeemers combined
With shallow the intellect
they are unable to gauge
What's deemed as finale
is interval at this stage
No wrath is being foretold
or kind of suggestive cure
It's all a tested foresight
and practiced skills mature
Position may seem feeble
but dilution persists strong
Future would record a saga
of right and what was wrong
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem