In summer, when the happiness of moron people touches the edge of death
A wise mind in an unknown part of this universe just birth
Living easy, they aren't busy, everything is prepared fro them before their birthday
But that mind… In summer, feels cold, he feels that he is closing to his end days
Growing like heather, feeling no pain, seeing nothing instead of enjoying and money and think they are the best,
In same way, the wise one thinks about other people bless
Facing with no hard problem to fix and just lay in a calm place
The mind of our story is playing with hard problems; he is powerful from the base
My name is MONEY! The life of other people is not important for me
My name is SOUL and KNOWLEDGE, the main course of the money be
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Interesting insight into our idolization of money... Good poem... Terry