O weep for the fate of proud Orestes,
Born with a pair of ten-pound testes;
Who tried to scale Troy’s immense walls,
But fell from the weight of those cursed b-ls,
And yet, the ground he never hit,
Snagged on the point of a parapet;
Cruel Trojans cared not one iotum
For the poor man hanging by his scrotum;
In fact, they struck him quite a lotta;
Orestes was the first piñata.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This one made me laugh. You are a great poet of humorous topics.