I
held together by a canvas sheath
it resonates to earthy beat
more strings to this bow, if you care
II
best laid upon then lie beneath
in summer it may smell of wheat
as mattresses go, it's truly rare
III
the inside made of hairy wreaths,
but hair of what? no treat:
from various beasts, fowl, and fair
IV
some gainsay, but it's a niche,
for aficionados who compete
with bodies, strewn upon a square,
V
a square in which they form a heap,
heaps of skin, not discrete,
heaps of hair - join them, if you dare!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
smell of wheat, good one
Tks Gajanan. I'm glad you enjoyed my little parody. Congratulations you are a very prolific poet, and your work bursts with love of life and wisdom. It's good to hear a positive voice. Tks for sharing.