Tired of his endless guilt,
He rode his motorbike to Gethsemane
And went out to strangle Jesus.
Coming home at last, he met his girl
And felt the tender swastika of love.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
By gum Ellison, you're in cracking form. I shall forward that to some of my correspondents (with due acknowledgements) .