The balance,
The symbol that stands upon courts,
The protector of rights,
Justice.
I gaze through the wilderness, and I see the weakest deer killed by the tiger, so that the tiger may live. Then I see the strongest deer escapes a tiger, so that the deer may live.
Then I rejoice sun and wind, which hug with gifts both tigers and deers.
Then again, I turn my face to the streets, and see the wealthy enacting laws to protect themselves from the poor. And the rights of those who lack gold, are often murdered naked in front of the public, shamelessly.
I then bless the honesty, and the purity of wilderness, and I write.
In the dead of night, the woods shook with fright
And death befell to give more days of life,
The weakest was killed after a short fight
And the strongest lived for another strife.
The night has gone, and now the morning dew
Sparkles upon, flowers and grass and trees,
Upon them all shines the same day anew
With the same sun, and blows the very breeze.
Then at times of gloom, when days become cold
The fox and the hare, their game remains fair,
None of them is poor, none of them has gold,
They drink the same water, breathe the same air.
Justice full of lies, in the streets I see,
Yet in the dear wild, it's all honesty.
