Imagine, if you will, this scene:
There's five foot fourish Mister Bean
announcing jokes for Halloween.
Now we all know he's hardly mean
but rather strange and always keen
to wear the look of Mr. Sheen
as fighting fit and rather lean.
This fellow somewhat entertains,
for which one needs no real brains.
He travels on those British planes
where Pommy pilots take the reins.
He goes to supersized great pains
to spend his loot (ill-gotten gains) ,
and never eats bread made from grains.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem