At the wake of grudge,
More graves in the dark are dug;
Mercy taken for revenge
And slaughtered even before-
The last words.
Watch subjects avenge
The bloodless sore-
Of their lords.
A scream would loud a much
For so must they bear the torch.
Bless the quiet soul;
It speaks while alone.
Break of silence,
For words do make the difference.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem