Ayn Rand was one helluva man
With eyes scintillating, of granite and sand
Rough edges hewn, by a calloused hand
I get what she's saying, but I'm not a fan.
Ayn Rand, she went down to dust
Leaving her wisdom entrusted to us
While she was stirring, it made quite a fuss
But I'd never be one, to jump on that bus.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
cool person to write about. brave to write about her. the first line is perfect