We are ill!
Our bodies are rotting away
From myriad years of neglect;
Our vim is gone.
We need a surgeon to succour
Our suppurating sores.
We are ignorant,
Enmeshed in folly
We need a philosopher,
Noblest of men,
With wit
Surpassing the crowd's
To counsel us aright.
We are a herd
Scattered about
The herdgroom slumbers away
After his fill of victuals.
Oh we are lost at sea!
Come to us great captain
And ferry us ashore.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem