Masqueraders chipping to the beat
covered in mud and oil
melodiously the rhythm of iron and steelpan
echos through every street.
Young and old fancy sailors
colourfully dressed
gliding with a stick
with faces painted white
dancing in morning dew
afresh and bright.
Masked heads
frightening to the eyes
act out a script
mocking each other
being beaten by a whip.
Big Truck passing
crowds excitingly parting
taking a wine on another behind
thongs of all variations
patrolling the streets of our nation
blissful and charming
that's not alarming.
United they deploy
all race, sex and size
maneuvering with comrade joy
as our festive activity
resembling that of Mardi Gras
in modus vivendi.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very nice..I wish i was there in t&t sounds nice