Command the field and take me to your home,
Abstract your mask and take me under your care,
From Libya to Lusaka to take a view on my love;
And in the wet dormat valley you will rest with my muse.
Glow red like an adult and glue unto my love with blue,
For your National Anthem will free my mind;
But 1111 is the binary number for 15.
Oh what a joy! !
And like a predicted peacock;
For it is time to get fit on this love,
Because these events of love are all set for you!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem