Who live in the house of glasses
they feel themselves of distinguished classes
But I know, whenever they see anyone,
holding in his hand, a stone;
though they have not shown,
but have strange fear in mind to moan.
Who live in the house of glasses
they feel themselves of distinguished classes
But I know, all external rays fall on their eyes,
they start looking for the curtains to hide.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem