My blood is fire flow in veins
And angry power of proud
Is giving bombs of evil pains
From an innormal crowd,
Like the mascarade of Serenissima,
That yells in space: "Belissimo! "
In the falling situation
Of every human rot,
On nations we have spot...
O! The decayed population.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem