Living in Rome
You cannot strife with Pope
There is only hope
To cope with the environment
And adapt to the Nature
To make a safe future
Trees are Almighty’s
Greatest gift and treasure
We cannot be foolish
Like the man
Who wanted to be rich
Very quickly
And thoughtlessly slaughtered
The hen for gold
And repented at the great loss
Be decent before you repent
There is no use
Beating the track
After the snake has an escape
All covet, all lost
So recover today
Without a delay
Well begun is half done
If you tear the tent
You will face a fear of rent
Patched cloth is better
For a bare body
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem