They arrived at the boarder
the two lovers grunted
looking at each other
like a newly wedded couple
Two december is like five years
'I must go now 'he grunted
lips wrestling hard for survival
and closer they are like a matting hen
Moving closer to the plane huts their love
tears dropping like a dropping rain
this must surely happen
so as to worship the god of money.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I DO A LOT OF GRUNTING MOSTLY BY MYSELF, I ALSO GRUNT BACK YOU REMIND ME OF ABBEKKA AND HIS WORK ARE YOU RELATED WARM REGARDS AJS