A rainy Sunday
and Pastor Smith is
in his pulpit bellowing
to the congregation,
“I hope you understand
Satan is a python.
Don’t let him get a grip.
He'll drag you into Hell! '
A voice beneath the pulpit
suddenly uncoils and shouts
much louder, 'Pastor Smith,
down in Hell we know
damn well you’re wrong.
Satan’s not a python.
He’s a cobra swaying.
He strikes and you're down here.”
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem