Whereas one breeds Good Lies for such Encore
Once such my Forceps too drugged to detect
That by Campaign prove Sympathy before
And polarise Dark Victims to their suspect
That these Swords still make Reputation stab
Through Time Gnarbled Hands cause Innocence Lost
Such as I avoid; And inspire your Nap
To Preserve your Sundries at all its Cost
Though, already a Foreigner I be
Far too Discredited by Heritage
At least your Age much Wrangled by Reprieve
As I stuff Silly Programs on Hermitage.
I'll say it again. Let your Little Man judge
With his Wee Gavel belittle his Nudge.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Sorry, I couldn't finish this offering. It is nonsensical. Rewrite advised but not in a complex sonnet form.