I see the whole bun of meals,
These controversial people object
To easy meals, suffering from them
As the heat climbs and you taste
A blending muscle, frowning at you.
Your eyes water at the climbing mountain
Of straw, stars connect to other stars
In these days of the highest rise.
I see the young mightiness of stars
In buns and burgers, these meals string
Along in their majesty and heat.
One sees the bun of my concoction,
It slits your tongue and eases
The mouth with controversy.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem