Who shall cast a stone
Who has no yoke
Or bears a crystal soul
Or no womb barricaded with a wool
Who has soldhis soul bloody beads of war
Let him of such immunity cast a stone
Who has no glass in this planet
Or province counted prominent
Let him choral cry with a voice
Symphony as a nightingale song
So the owls respond when all is dead at night
Who has gathered stones
Or lifted a gallow
to weigh his neighbors crimes
Whose fear is crimson as the tides
And ruin of brimstone
Would not breath in liberty till a stone is cast
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem