I know that all men carry chains, for everywhere men walk, they sing:
Their mouths are singing strains of pain, their chains are singing dreams of bling.
I know that all men dream of flight, for every time men fall, they weep:
As if the earth were made for worms and they in heav'n with God should keep.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem