Hard work and sulacean's wheel,
All push towards an opposite speel.
Through muck and grime and sweat 'bundant,
They reject life's sweet ungent.
'Tis unnat'ral to learn these things,
Yet so int'resting are such beings.
Meant to survive, we overstride,
now ponder on others' lives.
Both in the lab and on the bench,
We wreak of that voyeur's stench -
To pry into the minds of yokes,
Stretch out our great fingers,5 spokes
E'en to the brains of old,
Do be caressed by our fingers bold.
We have strived and strived 'till o'ershot we be,
Until all seems underwhelming to me.
However beneficial this knowledge may be,
Life's a shadow, a poor ghost,
No longer the main part to the host.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem