One day a woman has a wish to be a mortal being,
And death she asks after too many years of living,
But death has not arrived for her remarks.
One day a man decided to lash the slaves in the room,
Their weeping was starting so it was a lash too many,
And so the man who was master decided to hide.
These days the women of the men, the wives,
See slaughtering as the benefits of an animal,
An animal is not the human being.
In these days we see men who are spouses
Listening to the opposite pages of a book,
Mastering the labours of a day called dinner.
The modern world seeks the truth of purity,
Masterful ways are beds of the soil,
You lie in the grass, then the grave shall be the home.
The modern world sells the books of the religion
And these slim objects are your basket,
Slitting them in half, sending them to the weeping.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem