Little men speak so loudly on the ears of loud people,
Their heads spoke hard and heard many strict statements back;
Like the boats to cross the water of the river
A small task is to accomplish and carry out new sequences
In installing peace to our society;
Fear those tasks as little men who speak
And cowards turn their shame into loss.
Such power is maiming us, when it is called arrogance,
But when children sing in the clouds of heaven
The hard rain is making tears felt with rage and insolence
As they spoke too fast and noisily, they were never trained
Nor were rigours blending with the older lot.
A whole spoken sentence may blend as one aim, as a bending
Of light by a silver mirror.
Fear and then more than fear the children who practice offenses
On the tasks of our people.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem