In your river with a quiver vying for silver for a diva, grieve not for me, rival Steve
Instead, plead on arrival for forgiveness
For you, my sieve of reprieve
Steals deals teeming with happiness
Brokered in crockery
Straight from Straits of China
Where batteries and flatteries told a history
That delighted plights, blights, fights and flights Diana
Wouldn't and couldn't condone
Because torturers and vultures whom she trusted
Conspired on a spire of a squire in their empire to deny her a little loan
That had her buttress busted
Twice or thrice for the price
She paid as you waylaid
Her fields and shields to wield igneous ice
That rose and froze in a haze her hedonist head.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem