So what wisdom do you have?
Our best men have become
Your best enemies,
Our wise men are ashamed
And our land dismayed in dire;
Everyone is not given to covetousness
But you are hurting healing wound
We had in nineteen ninety-nine,
We had in two thousand and three.
For behold, you are a serpent
Living among the living;
Listen! Our hearts are faint in us
And we comfort ourselves in sorrow.
The cry of the Eve of our land
Is echoing from a far distance:
Is there no God in our land?
Is there no king in our land?
Why do you provoke us to anger?
Astonishment has taken hold of us
For the hurt of any of our men
We are hurt.
Has sanity come to our land
Since you began this biting business?
As long as we are not save in our land
Be also rest assured that you are not save.
God wouldn’t be deaf to our cries!
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