A pesky past like a rancid repast
Ought to turn its petrified bones
In dustbins of the past
Couched in abandoned ringtones with discarded clones.
A pointless past like a poisoned arrow
Ought to bury its odium
In dustbins in which tomorrow
Can't climb for honour due to accumulated opprobrium.
A pricky past like thoughtless thorns
Ought to sink its nuisance neck in a guillotine
To put an end to horny horns
It blows out of turn to get on nerves of Clementine.
An unbidden past like a nightmare
Ought to feature nowhere in vicinity of glory
Earned at great cost and whose fare to ride on a mare
Bankrupts the undefeated knight's salary in a hurry.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem