I shan't care more for life.
All the toil and strife
Conceded by you and me
Were meant to revive
The flames of honesty.
Yet nothing is more pretense
Than the semblance of modesty
In the blood-stained filthy hands
Of heirs of vile hypocrisy.
I shan't care more.
No more.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Thank you to connect this idea of false pretense with filthy hands, Thank you for sharing.