Our dreadful season,
Moment to cry,
The beauty hour of agony,
Should we cry and warm
the sky with dropping fluid,
Our eyes could drop blood
but who cares to console us
Even if we had moments in peace
but now we have sank in threshold
Amidst the harmful dance of a regime
Our dreadful season,
Ever come to whoop the blended peace
ever brewed on our faces and hearts,
We are at the corner and they are at city
of safety but are they sure to be so save?
Oh our dreadful season made by men.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem