The chieftain stank, with tender skin,
Lungs of steel, breathing was still a problem.
He incurred a loss due to old age,
Scoundrel thoughts entered his stinking body.
His toilsome ways exploded on entry of old age,
Splitting him in half, to rule his breathing and smell.
To rip him, calculate the odor and think of ways to remove
Him from chieftain, remove him from authority.
He shall hopefully receive chastisement,
For being with contagious diseases.
This is nothing but the truth, for those clean,
And they shall inherit the world and the joy it contains.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem