How much more blunt, can I actually get,
troubling indeed, you have not learned yet.
For as of yet, your soul does not belong,
and you keep wasting time, and doing wrong.
But fortunate are you, that patient am I,
because constantly, my patience you try.
You just won't heed, to my warning voice,
and soon I will have, no other choice.
Because terrible things, mankind has done,
constantly sinning, even killing my son.
Therefore vengence is mine, and I will repay,
and try do I, to save you from that day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem