behold the image of the times
eliminate that need for pain
give us our daily entitlements
shower us with material gain
free us from responsibilities
save us from heavenly thought
what is left for mere mortals
only what can be easily bought
economic forces hold the globe
have cast our destiny in stone
being just units of production
made of flesh, blood and bone
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem