we can't see the skull island from here
as it's proven from the map with me here
poor weak men hoist the colors
still far away to lower our anchors!
dead men tell no tales
give up that infernal game
play the melody of his name
decode the secret writing
when worthy time is running
say the truth even with the burning flame
in the fully moon night.
one push of a bell.
the mansion of flint
at 45th degree with
a gaff on the bench of the devil.
aim at the light
shoot through the left eye of the skeleton.
you men you withal are going to hell
come to walk along the path to hell
Jim Hawkins' Diary part II
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem