The monster's hand is as hard as glass at night,
Iron-like power is infinite, brittle glass holding tight;
Putin wants to bite the ground in daylight,
Demons power one hundred and three, a lonely kite;
Who will stop, black lamp's line has disappeared from sight,
Standing on the altar of the Colosseum, the world is watching an unequal fight;
The question is, who will kill the drunken elephant, who will destroy the pokers might,
The world conscience does not know when that time will be right;
Insane people leave the world alone with friends in blight;
Those who go with them tonight,
Have no conscience in the height,
They are for the fear of self-interest going alight.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem