He had spread with a flame of fire
And brimstone,
Rushed with a thunder spirit
He had riposte the elders by hit words.
Vulgarity was his masterpiece:
It was still on his way.
A hew of grudges waft above hi head.
He had a weakness of quaff.
Devasted the things he had:
Cannot broke through before
His inner meaning.
While I was looking:
He grew at normal, rushed with a waft of water;
Kudos and praiseworthy words had sprung.
He wondered me by his two different rushes:
It dashed my heart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem