A desolate trekker who walks undauntedly,
Truth moves slowly but surefootedly
Through matted crowds of lies,
Ever stung by lethal fangs of vice.
Her trek through moistureless terrains
Unperturbedly winds on amidst pains;
Outnumbered by loathing children of gloom,
Till the coming of Diablo's definite doom.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem