we did not really
make much
as masters of this
land
there are too many
of us
we are the ants and
there are
termites
we simply pass the
time
we cannot stay that
long
we are moving like
camels in the desert
we do not own the sun
we tread on deserts
we do not really make
much as
owners of this land
we killed the tigers and
tamed the elephants
we have our tusks and
bellies
we are the masters of
yore
gone and gore.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem