It's said that once upon a time
A prophet in a power plant
Was guilty of a shocking crime.
By starting mystically to chant
He calculated to besot
And so disturb the urge to work
Of every soulful watt.
He swung with every rhythmic erg
Counterpointing commutator
Slipping round the spinning bolt
No longer able hence to cater
For the intoxicated volt.
The genius felt the city's lamps
Begin to yellow then and die
As round him danced the nascent amps
Arced and music-moved to cry
With stink of ozone
Pulsed and freaked
'Til even metallurgic ohm
Relented then and leaked.
And through that whole fantastic night
The old man laughed and croaked and lisped;
He loved - until the morning's light
Found him felled and freshly crisped.
c1971
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Well its different! I enjoyed the read which put a smile on my face. When will you write another?