The road to my house is bad
But men who live there are good
A good man is a rich one
It is so they say
You are good but care less
For what is not in your parlor
Plunk, plank, slurp, dash
The motorists and cyclists go
You watch them and smile
Dark sinister guffaw
You are irresponsible
And unconcerned
Are you really good then
Unpatriotic though you be
If they insist you are
They are not like me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is ironic maybe.For you to be good, you've to show a sense of concern about what happens around you.Yet environment does determine whether one is good or not.This is a moral question.'They are not me' cos to be good also means that you've to be patriotic too.I love the way you handle you theme with simplicity of language & style.The point is clear.I see how you describle your poetic persona's area, for it reminds of our almighty ghetto, Ajegule.