Little dotted lines above the wall
A guide to the foreseen triumphant
Accorded the dare devil
Vampire with fresh blood
Too clear but hard to discern
Adorn with black monstrous attire
That mere eye have mistaken for a white garment
Funny as it may
Incomprehensible as it seems
The truth never lies
Talk about the unmerited triumphant
Of the deceitful monster
Whom through vice, the throne he inherits
Though not an heritage, but fleeting glory
A nice guide to a bedecked grave
In which with his two hands
Have measured, dogged and decorated
Poor ignorant thing
Don't be too relaxed
A beautiful grave is as cheap as hell
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An intense poem, Imaobong. Thank you for sharing. Peace.