To and fro they pursue
at the station they queue
be it on sunrise or in the night
patrol regardless of moonlight
miandering like ants without direction
flying recklessly with no dimension
in search of passengers on duty
some with no license and liability
weighing not the pros and cons of dragging
yet though as if in the harmattan ragging
they drove with tattered flags
being by some condemned rags
mad to eyes resemble
endanger to people responsible.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem