Nations are made to rest on the heads,
The body carries the world when we listen;
This open slaughter worked all the time,
Doing a slight mistake, doing the punishment.
National fervour is about when you punish,
The death of some we work on the punishment.
Let dangerous men lurk in the shadows,
The idiocy is well commented on, well spoken.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem