My infamous place inside this plane of existence
Is of a heavenly nature, the nature of heavenliness.
My hate is overcome by love for the impolite few
Yelling fortnightly, yelling as if they conquered.
Imaginary foes become high and mighty,
Helpless and hideous and historically heartbreaking.
My imported hollow wand chatters about hisses,
The harmonious lot conquer the lot of heaven.
This honour stays for those in a hesitation,
Of greediness in the extreme, in this Hell.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem