An avalanche was a screen to be with skill,
On the fourth of July a smaller man became;
Then they rejoiced with wicked nature,
A myriad of martyrs wickedly destroyed
A mastered man in front of the guests.
What a kerfuffle! After the flood had left
A myriad of masters, an avalanche came
By to twist the shoulders so much like
Scavenging.
We managed to scavenge a lot,
We left the kerfuffle!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem