My moods shall beg again, too far and away,
Their complication is advanced and to stay.
Certain jokes penetrate the mind if humourous,
When too humourous, the little jokes are marvellous.
Enter a menace to exit the stream, it delights,
For the hiding of our thoughts and our appetites.
Birthrights let minds envelop certain tasks,
To be afterwards rewarded like flasks.
These small containers contain beautiful milk
And to drink this leads to your ilk.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem