I lift my hands up, towards a merciful heart,
holding this fearful cup,
that can be filled with rightuousness,
My eyes are rising high,
they have reached to the sky,
asking every question why?
why should I die! ?
why should I cry! ?
I lied! I lied! why should I lie?
A lie in my life is like a shirt with a tie,
tying a tie that makes a neck fail to sigh,
My life is lost when I lost my File.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great flowing poem, like it.