Worship
“What should I call the judge? ”
I asked the officer.
“Your worship; that they like.”
He looked up, and replied.
“No! Never! ” I was sharp.
“This belongs to the, God.”
I waited, then went on:
“If ever”, in my mind:
“How selfish people are! ”
Judge came in.
We stood.
Workers bowed.
(Right angle)
Behind lips:
“You slaves! ”
Got blocked in throat.
As if rock on a road…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem