She was a faithful servant to the rich minds,
Overhearing the voices was to stop the rich minds;
Very comfortable men of such vigour and stature
Celebrated in their mediums of thoughts.
My penniless pounds spoke with light within
This prisoner of the night, a lacking man
Of rich health and blazing strength,
Fierce occupations reserved their length.
She was a sage serenading in the civilisation,
Comfort and years of crime afflicted the promenade;
The society grew into limbs of choice and life,
She overheard too many top thoughts of living.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem