Last summer I compared flute with life
Perhaps I was a bit stupid so did not give reason
Today I got all the reasons
But have doubts whether I can give proof
Those who give logic without reason
And give reason but cannot substantiate
No choice I am left with but to hate
Their errors and mistakes in terms of holes
Like that of a flute, close these all
And there is no tune produced
Blow these and these will inflate like a balloon
And hit your life badly when these burst out
In front of your nose, blunt or sharp whatever you have.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem