What we have
is the planet
Who is the crucified world.
If only it can talk
and got some sense of irony,
it might shouting of our being abuse.
And we
who utters
with bended knees,
'oh god forgive them,
they know not what they do.'
But i was a fool,
fooling myself,
forcefully washing my hands.
For i was really belong from them
who must utters...
'Oh god fogive us, we know what we are doing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem