While you're romanticizing the setting sun,
And conjugating all the figures of speech
Such a metaphorical red orb produces,
Allow your eyes to wander over
To the duck,
Waddling westward.
Observe his tail feathers.
Notice how preened and coiffed they are,
With a tinge of midas gold.
See how the breeze gently whips
The wispy wafting plumes,
Swaying right to left,
Exposing its avian chute.
Yeah! ! Now you see too! !
The exact same vision I gaze on.
The reminted 'El Presidente,
Donaldo, Don Come Mierda, '
Who does indeed have the uncanny resemblance of
The East End of a Duck Walking West.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem