Fortune flows all across that place,
Over the gem vaunts of glace,
Rich in an attention seeking lace.
Miles go over past the busy 'ants',
Years past a mole of dark errants.
Ubiquitous are horned rock fragments,
Neither do they sound entertainments,
Beauties, or such value attainments,
Of the kind unlike their containments;
Roughly those are their arraignments,
Nor concrete role of infotainments.
Finaly, the place hides in thickets,
Infested by unseen lonely crickets,
Rarely seen outside their rackets.
Still but match past such pickets,
To the appropriate of the safe wickets,
Carefully follow way down the mine,
Honour and only if need be, underline,
In bold, but dare never undermine,
Lawns that'll dwelleth thee around fine,
Diamonds, silvers and golds that shine.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Yes. Clever, Buyunde. Blessings to you on your child to come