The world is just a big ball

Where is the wisdom of living 
The horns growing on his forehead cruel ruler. 
The world is just a big ball that is kicked 
gluttonous man of power in the legs. 
Belongs to a group of us I guess each one. 
I have my words behind the shield, armed 
can there be friendship? 
Brain lobotomy, spring, summer, winter, fall. 
From among the words generated only loneliness. 
Where is the wisdom of living, where the undulating 
fertile fields, where the flowering geranium watches? 
Where peace lives in the desert, as well as 
serenity of the monks. 
Monastery of peace, it needs to mind, 
silence the call to prayer, the church bell language.