Fear has special occasion to laugh and tickle
Inside the stomach and where it hurts.
The rebellious tanks are spread with butter,
Hairy and hello I say to them.
The trigger is pressed when they are nearby.
The guns have been blacker and with more colour
Since even and odd numbers exist.
Burn the soldiers who live again,
Who learn of another man or woman.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem