Dogs and Wolves with flags can't be!
If a day could be made even a wee bit longer
I would take my time before I wave the my flag
In my flag I suffer from a sense of loss.
Every time I hold the flag in my hands
My joy vanishes with each over speeding limos,
Limos with flags flying on their bonnets.
The very Wolves inn our sheepskins
I know I'm no longer stronger and more in danger
Living in the daily tatters of the flowered words
I look at there colors and explore their meaning
The more I have no reason to fly the flags
...and the more I see the fatty smiling Honored Wolves
Scheming with the smiling hyenas and the vultures
Our welfare is a carcass for their satisfaction
I seek the freedom land of my country,
To be happy in the colors of my beloved country's flag
When it flies above in the deserts and over the forest
High up in the mountains and deep down in the valleys
I love my flag, but the wolves have come,
They use my flag, to drink my blood, and tear my flesh
Destroying the cream and skin and flesh of my land in their feast,
The Wolves have flags flying before them
When the Wolves are flying the flags high
'With sufficient thrust pigs fly just fine! '
They use the flags to fool the country
But the pigs just follow them fine along the way
Cheering in pride as the flags fly past the crowds of pigs
What is wrong for a wrong for a Wolfe to feast again?
One by one the Wolves congregate on the Manna of the land
Two by two it all resembles the feast of the crocodiles
The colors of the flag looses its meaning
The color white is lost in the tension of the greedy
Turning the color black into the current sorrow for the pigs
And green simply their blind acceptance of the royal stealing
The shield and spears the tools of their pilfering hands
In anger I through down the flag and stump on it
I cant wave my country's flag anymore
Till the day the flag returns to its intended meaning
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem