The tongue is pregnant and due
Pressed by much grey sadness
With reflection never had heard
The tongue is pregnant and burdened
By the much scrape; stiflingly, strenuous
Penalties conveyed by ruthless vengeance
The tongue is pregnant, and in painful labour
As the trade’s dictate, is that the state’s dealing
Must be aired as perceived by the sight and sound
The tongue’s pregnancy is let loose, the stream busted
And now the muddy scruples engraving the pen is washed
The tale is chronicled; awaiting the cruel baptism, of the storm.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem