Dawn may barge in like a burning harlequin
Vultures fly yet its hard not to laugh
Nature’s children are killers
Dirty people
Flirtations with bones are always amusing
Wrap your cloth round her wrist
Human folly, ‘tis fiction
Poor creatures
Car crash, whip lash, father’s burden, festering muck
On the roast let’s have a toast for a force
A force indeed to be reckoned with
I regress…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem