Oh! motherearth how can you
put suger in my stew,
why! is my salt taste
bitter,
my soul sings of
better days in a
battle field
my heart beat more
faster than my sword
my tears cann't wash
my hands
human celebrate life with
much passion yet human
eats and drinks when
life is nomore,
no human wants to
be ornameted,
truely we are of no-use,
our life has gone
beyond riches all we need is
to be successful
too many deep sleep
cause our future more
pain than gain,
life has is own way
of expressing friendship still
hatered can live longer
but not freely
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem