Who is he, if not the man
Who has opened the woes can?
Who has never ever raised a plant,
But thrown his axe in a felling slant;
Who has let the air so low
And ruined the gentle ozone flow;
Who has set the weather change
Getting out of the usual range;
Who has twisted the words of peace,
But pursued deadly wars with ease;
Who has trapped the world in debt
In his rosy bed, where he quietly slept.
Who is he, if not the man
Who has opened the woes can?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem