Power is a mirror of men in the world
Which cannot be used like other mirrors,
Because every people who it will hold
Will not be able to find their errors,
But will their fellows behind them standing.
The men behind do like a referee,
Who will be punishing or pardoning
Players, who mistakes will make, for them to be
Keeping fair play. Any player who resists,
Snaps his fingers at the observation
Of the referee, goes to him and casts
A look of contempt, a hard decision
Him takes offside ‘cause he’s found without heart
Of love, which would bring someone back on cart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem