Turky creek this hollar liquid metal
flowing in to you.
Creek bed wooden chairs hidden
all from view.
Those varmites got in your pants
huntun gun of shot.
Lumber not of jack house seen
for miles around stone made
piller brought safely make
your way.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
this is baffling for me, but....it doesn't sound good! ! bri :)