wherever you go
in History you shall fight
and the fight
shall be between
the Laws and the Flesh
and the Laws are arrogant:
‘We win.
We always win.
Behind us power props
Thus
The Laws betake themselves
To retain then as kings and
Emperor over flesh and with it blood.
How much more shall History
Be more arrogant?
For without the flesh and the blood
Who shall vote the laws?
Laws shall not be.
In Pity's came:
‘Between your fights
Never consider me? '
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem