Arise o! Kitchen pot
My stomach calls to bay.
To serve my stomach right
With appetizing gaze I pray.
The labour of my market-thing
Shall never be invaded
With poisonous outing.
One kitchen bound with foodstuff.
I prepare to massacre.
Arise o! Cooking burner.
Fight thee against food villains.
My vessels should thy saliver nourish.
My body shall thy reception flourish
Always be there for me.
For my food lusts satisfied.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem