Cole, cod, do, doe;
A group of gangsters,
Cod, code!
The man pulled the gun at him and,
Snatched his bag.
View, interview!
With the muse of the land,
Full of trouble;
Illegal lust!
Consumed by incessant talk.
Role, broke!
Under it,
With it,
In the land;
With the gangsters.
Lust!
Grinding everything to a halt;
Blame, shame!
Of the picture;
In the land,
And, the man pulled a gun at him.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem