No one will hear your word,
And no one will take care,
Your beguiles alone will be there,
And the masks of manipulated cheats,
Would stand in the void, to suck profit.
Ah! Habit passes into character,
And that's the matter, we fear,
No one will hear would word,
As conscience turns into a fraud.
Traps after traps made of political false hood,
And ingenuity of intellectual exploitation,
With psychic missiles and over taxations,
When with rampant fill earth's every cup,
People would forget to feel and think,
As no distinction of positive and negative there be,
And you would forget to react and whine,
No intoxication would be, however you drink strong wine.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem