We cannot afford to play
with the heart of a child,
Or the
Devil
will
pay
its
heart
Arts of
great
evils.
Then, we would
pay as
the future
will demand,
For our harshnesses
with the
past and
pre- sent;
Like a rolling
stone on
global warming,
While the
earth bursts.
Then the ark would
be
built,
At the clocks of six and ten
And Nature's essence will
have
to
parent it, till its esse is saved.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem