“Fewer still get read”
Who will protect us from our protectors?
who shall judge our police?
who will redirect our directors?
and who release our lease?
Who will police our judges?
and who will will our will?
He who chooses his slavery,
is he a slave still?
Out of paradoxes
man creates his world;
he cannot clean his sockses,
and says: “The world is soiled!”
[sing:]
We are only playboys
in the house of the dead.
Very few poems get written;
fewer still get read.
[sing:]
Who will police our judges?
and who will will our will?
He who chooses his slavery,
is he a slave still?
- Bulat Okudjava