Where there is hate, the heart has no peace.
Anger heats up in the gurgling churn
Of blood palpitating rush;
The mind is restless
Like a hungry wolf.
You can hear the snarl and growl
Over high rises sitting aimlessly
Steering at the naked sky.
What will man think
When the noise abates,
To inform the rush of traffic
It is only an escalation
Of ruptured blood pressure?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem