A dog with some food
In its mouth hardly barks
We kept quiet
To stick the bone
In our mouth.
Those who had nothing
In their mouths suffered.
We stocked the fire
In which democracy was roasted
We killed it
We the errand boys
We the thugs
We the sycophants
And flew with false wings.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem