Once lived a slave
Owned by a richly, gluttony fool
All his master cared about was his fat laden pork
And a jar of wine to always pour
Like a king he lived
Sleeping on bed stuffed with straw
Or on silky bed stuffed with feathers and animal fur
Always creeping to the silky bed to warm his master's mistress up
On and on it went until he sired his master's son
Then he became a boastful slave
Boasting about the pleasures he had
And escapades he made to slaves of shrewd men
Making them see he has the life they all craved
And his life afterwards is not worth the ink of my pen
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Boasting about the pleasures he had! But, the truth is better than the pleasures of the world. Nice work.