Little men toady
Lip loud laments
Little on the ground
Little on the hill
Little hearts quarrel
Skirmish over rats
Knowing not their niche
Hastening their end
Little eyes see
Only others' merits
Little mouths quip
Stomachs full of envy
Little hands fight
Without making money
Little bodies trap
Garbing little souls
Little meanly lowlives
Die little deaths
Stashed in little coffins
Confined by little skill
Spending little effort
Only little zest
Doing little good
Paying little dues
Little classes, little state
Little markets, little land
Little leaders, little codes
Little churches, little faith
Little gods, little people
Little dreams, little glories
Little cares, little patience
Little little, little still.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem