Regularly with the muse of love to respect your Sate;
But, why is the container outside full of waste?
In your land,
With your works,
However, you are what you eat on this earth.
New Yorker! !
With the muse of the world watching you;
But, you have more to share with us,
As one comes across the land.
Lap, lapse!
Like a tracking system;
But, with intensive care!
With the muse of your State.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem