Why do we invite sensible images,?
Images ourselves are we not?
Why do we need to declare a war,
While battles of instinct remain UN-faought.
Why questionings against conscience?
Go rampant in politics,
The bookish world with perverted intellects,
Weave and weave on exploitations' tricks!
The primeval forest leaves us not,
Though we claim us as civilized ones,
Our beasts in the inner forest are wild,
To gratify the hunger, -in names of fun.
No 'why' can ever answer, as why is fake,
All our promise for sex and money, we break!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem