...And are we all of one clay,
While everyone sings of their nights?!
Ah, ah..
stop, noble judge, stop!
For people do not like canned judgments,
Like their slender limbs,
Stolen from the coffers of yellow poverty
To beautify the bodies of the rich
And reshape them.
Open your eyes, O judge,
Alert your fingers...
And allow all the contestants to kick,
And no harm will befall you...
For the spectators cling to their right
To entertainment...
Otherwise, the tournament will be cancelled...
Entertain them...
So that your words do not turn into fire...
And your clay into dust...
Give them good tidings,
That their minds are one,
And their clay is of different kinds!
**
