injustice is
to an art, too in the
arts, not just in politics,
in governance,
even in family circles,
even within ourselves,
this life in restraint,
in self-denial, at first,
it sounds unfair,
a neglect, an unkindness,
sort of disrespect for
what we are and what
we can be, for what i am,
but soon, or sooner,
the realization comes,
it is all for the human good,
that humanity to make
this race survive, the i, that
one must forget,
so that a name gets stuck
in iron or stone
on the walls, in the skies,
in the heavens.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem