Hurt times are ravenous
Destroying the well-being of nervous
Pulling down the strength of a man
The man old enough to make things happen
They devastate the taste of life
With the edge of knife
Making kings to bow down
Depriving the man what he own
Hurt times sow seeds of double-minds
As an old wound reminds
The owner the past things
Which every thought of leaves nothing
Hurt times the pay point of life
With no guarantee to vipe
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem