Fear them?
Who have taken
the world on stride,
Their callous hearts have no
human milk
in store,
The scream of
orphan, the wail of widow,
Move their heart intensely no more, Believing youths
are blamed alone,
Whose ancestors
taught the world
to love before.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
One of your nice poems, I think. The human milk that their ancestors bestowed or inherited, changed into black blood therefore they've played such a cannable game. Your poem expresses the situation in a nice way.