We condemn this poet for his compulsion to rhyme
But must find a punishment fitting the crime:
His talent for writing will surely grow worse
And the loftiest poem turn to trivial verse.
He's tried to combine meaning and metre
And make sense and sound go hand in hand.
We're afraid there is no redeeming feature;
The spice in his 'cooking' is far too bland.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Yes, good ironical intonation, it helps …