Brother,don't raise your finger
To point at me and say:
There he goes in his funny clothes.
They are not yours
They are mine.
Do not screw your mouth
To describe the way
I dress my children
They never dress to your taste
They dress to my taste
Do not crane your neck
Into my house
To see what food i eat
It is not your appetite to satify;
It is my appetite.
Brother,don't turn yourself
Into a diary
To record the life i have led,
I have left you alone
You also leave me alone
