one night by the riverbanks
heard a thunder strike a tree
it didn't burn but broke a twig
saw a men clothe red and a wig
we followed them; they have fire stick
chewing something; they always spit
they're drinking that make them loud
and stumble; buried their face in mud
their women are clothe like a tree
you can hide a deer beneath their hiney
so i pick one with flower on the chest
i want to you try; you'll look the best
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem