He looked very fine in his attire,
Enough to gape at in awe and fire;
He was angry as well, at us for being,
The staring and the pushing resumed fancying.
We were highly sensitive, fully alarmed,
By the rows and arguments rearmed;
We fought in the skies like kids,
Closing the statements with eyelids.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem