Sir,
Sir, a cigar for you,
A loafer saying to another loafer boy
While the bystanders seeing it with all smile,
A loafer to another loafer
On April Fools' Day,
Mark, mark the style and manner
Of saying,
Sir, sir, a cigar for you!
Yes, yes, keep it my boy,
another loafer with the mobile wires plugged into
The ears
And he listening to music,
Asking him to keep it,
But he knows it not the matter
Of his loafer friend,
The cigar not a cigar
But a white-paper rolled
And filled with dry leaf-cuttings.
But when tasting for a spark and puff,
The embers taking to not,
Extinguishing
And smoking it not,
The cigar
Without the taste and intoxication,
A childish cigar indeed,
Letting with a mood off
And he abusing his friend.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem