My, how she grows
My, how becoming
While all around, the world is humming
The blades of progress, whirling, coming
The backward band of banjo's strumming
The background beat of masses running
Running in a giant circle
Running 'round the Maypole
Running as fast as they can
Never to escape
But what a beautiful pole!
Deliver her to the machine
No pedal is too tender
No precious thing avoids surrender
The young and old, each race and gender
All sweet and pure things meet the blender
No vile act will be remembered
Spinning, spinning in the broth
Adding to the tasty froth
What makes her her forever lost
Never to return
But what a delicious soup!
Can't comprehend
The box she's in
Bears devour Goldilocks...again
Papa drags her to the den
Mama plucks her like a hen
Baby, fork in-hand just grins
The wolf in grandma's bed will win
Buddha lied, there is no Zen
And that's just where the lies begin
Never to be told
But what an interesting story!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem