Whatever you chronicle the event, you won't believe a great deal of elimination of Sudan; there wasn't any movement of people alive.
The whole Khartoum buildings are deserted, there were a lot of houses and buildings burnt and devastated.
Hollow lanes were disseminated everywhere you were driven. There were a lot of killings and sacking and smashing and mugging of some wagons, shops, markets and banks; strange phenomena waves of force had done.
You've already crossed into forbidden lands; does it matter now that you've stolen others?
Malfeasance with delinquency, you've blessed our mindset, you've been fraudulent mortality and left cast aside in the infraction.
An espied day has awoken, your clout has been busted, as you stroll into others' universes crooked with faults, you left a misguided reaction.
You should have groomed all prospects, you should have discarded all of your egotistic, deceitful aptitudes; to conserve the lives and prosperity of others and property.
Cold-blooded lions don't divulge us that you weren't fronting when cruel soldiers dispirited.
And you identified your heaviness of hearts roof so groggy that you wouldn't measure the bare dread echoed in our low spirits.
Dastardly lions, we absolve you even after you turned your rearward on us, stuffing your days only with our grief to dip higher into a supernova with no aspirations to model us guardedly household.
But impotent lions, how can criticize you? You're only a mere bystander, incapable of hold us feeling remorseful for abolishing your uninvolved brood.
You've beheld it all behind the torn and blood stained, the distorted tingling of blight and suffering.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem