They are bathing
In the same filthy mud water
And suffering a lot,
And we called all intelligent.
So many have no cloth
To put on,
So many have no food to take,
So many have no shelter,
No light in their houses,
No road on which one can walk freely,
Yet we called great is the king!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem