If hair could talk, oh boy there would be an
abundance of people in a heap of trouble
The mass would pile up to the mountain’s peak
Accumulating gossip, tittles-tattles
Nobody has a lifetime of being squeaky clean without thorns
Whether it is major or minor flaws
At one time or another messed around almost all have
While some never get caught by the law or whomever
Others without the same fortune get trapped
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An excellent observation of truth!