For, there is no justice around me and,
There is no help around me.
Hatred!
You have blocked my ways o that i cannot pass through;
Cry, wry!
With the youthful vigour and the old wisdom;
And like bones with marrow,
But, He who knows my ways will try me and, i will come forth as gold.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem