We are unlettered men of desperate character,
Mountains away from the ordinary line,
In moon lit company we distill together,
Where there ain't no taxes and there ain't no fine.
Guns in hands, we drive the officers out,
Demands mean nothing to what we're about,
Whiskey is how we pay our bills,
And there ain't no lawman taking our stills.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem