They stood quiet in queue,
all saintly and wealthy,
civilized that they were
to settle their till,
in st. peters holy writ.
They waited all along,
to be saved of fire,
that shall burns their sins,
to be chaste and chastened,
then head to the pearly gates.
Than there was a crowd,
all madmen and beggers,
noisy men, full of grime,
uncivilized that they were,
patrons of St. Assisi.
They never had to wait,
st. peters wouldn't stop them
'cos the fire wouldn't burn them,
they had not tills to settle for,
To reach the Pearly gates they lived for.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem