Somewhere near the year of my birth,
The entire nation yearned for a change,
not in direction, not in respect, more in reflection
and no more of this nonsense.
Gone were those thrilling days of yesteryear,
When a voice would come out of a box and say, ”
A fiery horse with a speed of light,
A cloud of dust, and a hearty'Hi-Yo, Silver! '
The Lone Ranger rides again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem