Oh thief, the wise lords do commit a decent treason
For you and me. Sorry are your colleagues that see gods
As mighty as the whole sun and the whole moon.
Oh you thief, it stole only when required, on a dead day
Such as this one - Can I tell your mothers and fathers?
Much I do for their feet and hands, that meet,
That meet in the night and the very last hour of this world,
Do they not be vast in their wisdom, in their precious learning
Of how and how not?
You are a thief and I am not a great big one, for I am not blood and bones.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem