With warmest heart but coldest rime,

The torch bends legs and threads its way.

Though thugs and thames pured all their shame,

But flame of love still sends its ray.

 

Should always a terrorism in your house,

But peaceful a protest in our land.

In all our friends' and foes' presence,

Yet only a sole voice sounds for fraud.

 

Be where falls snow of cold and bias, 

Be there our tolerant wreck their sham.

O, please don't seize your conceited days,

And let us dream our one world dream.

 

Such is my feeling, to you I so disappoint,

May for you a  scene of repent lies in front.