For I see,
Again we have turned to wild,
Walking on primitive path,
Wrath - wrath - wrath
Life has become a curse,
Who feeds the baby? , Who is the nurse?
Love-the Virtue, Hatred - the vice,
Game of chance-Shake the dice,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A nice write, let us wait when the dice stops on our number of choice.