When a famine struck woman gives birth of a child,
She cries in pain and then smiles in gain.
A pleasure is born, not an edible grain.
When in drought a lone cloud is seen,
People exult and flatter.
Hopes flash on, not the pouring rain.
When you need a god and do not find one,
Your frustration overcomes its limit.
A friend comes up, not a true leader.
When your SOVEREIGNTY submits to MARKET FORCE
Your countrymen choose a wrong steed.
The Blinder is set, not a path finder.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
no labor lost, I like it, thanks.