There was once a boy I knew,
who loved to sniff tubes of glue,
he sniffed so much,
he was sticky to touch,
and he always had the flue.
He was as thin as a rake,
and would constantly shake,
he shook like a shaman,
and spoke like a alien
on earth for a weekend break.
He was as white as sheet,
and would melt in the heat,
Then one day he suddenly died,
he had accidently glued his mouth to his eyes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
what a tale! the humor cutting into the brain clean and precise the lad happy for awhile then eternal doom a fine poem