Two little houseflies embarked on their honeymoon flight
And landed on my breakfast table in the dim morning light
They hopped from cup to cup and squatted on my bread
I hit them with a fly flap and one fell dead
I waited for the one that escaped my strike
With intent to kill on its next hike
I searched for it here and there but could not see;
It was drowned and found floating on my tea
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem