Henry Lawson, let me call you
from the city's cruel street.
See, my dear poet, within you,
How many faces are there and
what are they doing at a time.
Are we prepared for a war or
going to settle everything
in a peaceful manner that suit all.
That is all in doubt, my dear.
We are willing to stay in a
safe place but want not to
sacrifice anything that are with us.
How wonder! we are living with others
but keeping our self-interest intact.
Is it not preparing for blood bath?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem