Underneath the mangosteen tree,
Down by the red rusty shack,
Sat a fierce pirate,
Ready to climb the masthead
Of his anchored green galleon,
To reach the nesting crows.
Armed with his trusty sabre,
(A sturdy stick of bamboo) ,
Sweltering in the tropical heat
In wellington boots
(Folded over cavalier fashion) ,
With a heart lovingly sewn onto his bell-bottoms
Later to be torn off again,
By some buxom wench,
He smiled happily at the camera,
A picture of tyrannical innocence,
Surrounded by the golden treasure
Of his untainted childhood;
Invisible then to my young naked eye.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem