Pick your wire,
Bend down and choose,
What do you want,
Necks, goat meat,
Feets, sausages,
Pig ears,
Take your choice,
Bend down and pick,
Its public its everywhere,
Road butcheries with no roof,
What if the rains come,
For the scorching sun has already gone,
Road meat at dawn,
Favouable butcheries for many,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem