Shameful and successful, half of the humans
Gain the upper stories of the higher conjecture,
Yet the books fly off the horizon, angering
A flight for the gods,
Gods are so many now that primary
Characteristics offer a contest.
The shame of a day eccentrically flies
Into a rock of the higher disorder.
One brain is apt to be apple,
Bananas join in the game of death,
With life existing elsewhere.
To be fit, you must offer spheres
To the mind of trouble.
I must be ashamed of the higher model,
The higher nature emits trade
For the fortunes are bitter.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem