rode into town with swinging tail
tied his nag to the hitching-rail
swapped it for a smart saloon
purred along with the engine's tune
so with angel's wings and a smiley face
and holy-ground his parking space
how then he burned with a zealot's flame
he opened his mouth and the words just came
and he led them all in a lively dance
he'd opened the gates to deliverance
but a masked-man came sowed seeds of doubt
as to who'd be let in and who'd be kept out
so with deep unease they're hedging their bets
calling to God on the internet
and there they wait at the foot of the hill
of enlightenment where time stands still
he knows if cometh that witching-hour
could be saddle-bags and one horse-power
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem