Beloved Bulldog, cherub faced,
Cigar and brandy connoisseur, impish with the victory sign,
A super guy - changed the color of the sky.
Proud and plodding - diplomatic, always tough
A Rock indeed he was for us.
This hovering plover in the rain - made the sun come out again.
When our blood ran cold with fear, he warmed us right back into gear.
As we traveled on anew - the days took on a brighter hue.
Speaker, writer, painter too - many things that he could do.
Our politician, leader, friend
He Spurred us on right to the end - of WWII
A rainbird fluttered round the bend - to victory.
(but broken necks never mend)
His booming voice, taught us to rejoice
in work, in toil, in tears - to shed the canopy of fears
All through those fateful wartime years.
This Anglo-American combination
Turned out to be a real salvation.
Who led us o’er the crooked stile?
Our Winnie with the winsome smile!
Throughout the conflict staged to win
Never, ever should we give in.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem