I can't come to owe itself to me
lest i would be forever harrased
even the ga ga going crowds don't
what this melancholic buffalo bull does to me.
he is always hitched up the door
pa says he's a friend of his
and there he's a yawning all the time
gulping few, and belching most of his diet
he is wicked(don't say him poor fellow)
for this knack of knowing my presence
and worse still, the coincidence of his swinging tail.
no, they can't be defined a normal phenomena
ever looked at his big, mouthful eyes
they tend to get you, even if you never mind
and i will never see, anyone as arrogant,
with so much disdain bulging out of his eyes.
he walks of the road, as if a king
no matter what horns blow, he never buzzs.
and only if pa let me drive that tractor once
would run him over an' not pay any sum next to his kin
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem