Sitting in a crowd, chattering this and that
Not many care, they are talking about what
Keeping out silence, being their game
Mumble they will, even things so lame.
Teaming with a crowd, doing this and that
Not many care, whether good or bad
Keeping out loneliness, being their purpose
Follow they will, even without a course.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem