In an era adrift, decisions hold sway, Judgment of the Republic, termed betrayal's display.
Citizens' lives in quandary, each day unfolds anew, Appointments in succession, rumors accrue.
How does the majority feast while rights are riven? No one to blame but ourselves, action forgiven.
The broom sweeps the house, close aides cast aside, Is this the Iron Broom, truth or veiled in pride?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem