When idle, one is liable
Other's agitations to brand
As the whirlwinds of anarchy
Churning up a moderate land.
When listless, one is resistless
Other's motivations to treat
As the fires of zealotry
Hissing down a rational street.
When ignored, one is unexplored.
When forgot that same is as not.
Hearken to my words, just this once.
I am sick of the phantom's lot!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem