My horse had bolted at the flash
of lightning, amplified by thunder.
The saddle bags contained the cash
I'd stolen, welcome to Down Under.
She'd stared at me with eyes so blank
and fingers baring frightened nerves
it was the Oodnadatta Bank
and she had overflowing curves.
I got a couple million quid
enough for Ulahf Isle,
but now it looked as if my bid
for freedom on the Nile
was put on hold by circumstance,
perhaps it was my God,
who'd interfered with my great plans
the deal was rather odd.
It happened that at the Corral
outside the township proper
a posse stood and my friend Mal,
who was the local copper
lassoed the horse and all that gold
and looked inside the bags.
He found the money in the fold
right under the old rags.
The banker smiled from ear to ear
but looked in my direction.
My fleeting hope turned into fear
of imminent detection.
When lightning struck again, so soon.
The posse stopped at once,
then turned and rode toward High Noon
with fully loaded guns.
It must be God who figured that
a balance had returned.
God never liked our tit-for-tat
as far as man's concerned.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem