Super Eagles, once again, can't fly.
Once again our pen will fill the well!
Yet, the pat falls on the broken birds:
O, stuffs that I must trust are failing me!
All the birds out in the woods won't sing.
The bridle can't the horse tell left or right.
Once there was poetry Chancery could not judge:
O, stuffs that I must trust are failing me!
Jon, the bee always found on the vine;
Reuben is still living parrot's dream.
I trusted garden egg to turn not red:
O, stuffs that I must trust are failing me!
There's a big hole in the roof that leaks.
The cooking gas fails with the food undone.
Chinua's new fiction crosses real lines:
O, stuffs that I must trust are failing me!
Where is the glue king that shall keep his throne?
Behold, Muammar hides inside rat holes.
Where is the God that shall save the Queen?
O, stuffs that I must trust are failing me!
I trusted light to bear the torch of speed,
Till Chancery wanted good Salami's skin.
Jon's skinning hand dusted the speed of light:
O, stuffs that I must trust are failing me!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem