Who the hell cares about those
Who retire from their office?
Or who really honors those
Who turn weak in brawn and brain?
The youngsters soon make faces
As they turn back their faces,
And spit out their suppressed hate
For what they did in their power!
For many a time they pawned
Their souls to get positions,
They ignored subordinates
In their arrogance of power!
And when they retire from life,
They'd say in relief: Thank God!
At last they gave us all peace,
Let them take their rest in peace!
As they sinned ‘gainst their conscience
Their bodies for e'er remain
Un-decayed, abhorred by termites
And hated even by worms!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem